The Anti Pleasure Dissertation
by colacherry
Summary: She's a feminist, he's a realist. Watch them grow and develop as they learn and challenge each other through differing ideas about sexuality and life in general. AH ADULT THEMES, LEMONS
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Thanks to **EverIntriguiged** for Beta'ing this story! Link to her on my profile under "favorite authors."

Initially this was a one-shot for the contest, and has been continued!

**Disclaimer: Don't own!**

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**"I'm a Cocktease or Twat Tease"**

**A Twilight Teasing Story Contest**

**Title:** The Anti-Pleasure Dissertation

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Edward/Bella

**Vampire or Human:** Human

For more information please see contest details on **ninapolitan's** profile

"_She's totally smart and totally threatening...Even liberals don't like smart women"  
(Kurt Cobain, New York, July 1993)._

There. That seemed like a good start. I couldn't wait until I finished writing this dissertation and could move on with my life. Scratch that – I couldn't wait until I finished defending this dissertation so I could move on with my life. I shouldn't put the cart before the horse, though, because defending it would actually mean it was written. My thesis adviser, Professor Friedan had been so great with feedback for this. She had gotten me on a feasible schedule to get everything done and as long as I stick to that with no distractions, I should have this draft finished in time to present to the committee in a few months.

The 'no distractions' part had been a bit rough lately. Not just on my unfulfilled libido, but because Alice and Rosalie kept bugging me about going on dates with them. They kept telling me they had this "friend" they wanted to set me up with. _Right_. I loved my girlfriends, but I wasn't sure I could let them set me up with some "friend" of theirs, which really meant he was friends with either Jasper or Emmett. At least they were trying to set me up with the opposite gender. That was progress.

Even if I had time to go out on a date, _which I didn't_, who's to say their friend would even like me? Most men didn't bother to get to know me further once they heard I was a women's studies major. It was a good thing, actually. I could weed out the guys who casually coughed "lesbian" or "feminazi" at me then snickered to their friends.

I was not militant. In fact, I was actually quite sexy. Even if I wasn't busy having sex.

There were no guys in my major, though, so it even further negated the possibility that I would find someone to date. I didn't have time anyhow.

I was pretty excited about my dissertation topic. It was about the objectification of women in the entertainment industry. It might've been a simple subject and easily overlooked as irrelevant subject matter but I was confident with my new research findings that this would put me ahead of the game in my field.

After typing out some more of my notes, I decided to call it a night. I still had some lesson plans to finish looking through for the class I was a TA for, Feminist Perspectives on Environmentalism. This week we were discussing how gender subordination and environmental destruction are related phenomena. I thought it was going to be an incredibly groundbreaking discussion in class.

As I finished tidying up I heard a knock on my door.

"Bella, we were planning on going out tonight, would you like to join us?" the voice called through the door. It's Alice.

"Thanks Alice, but I'm actually looking through my lesson plans for the week. Maybe next time?" I told her this in the politest voice possible, but I was sure she picked up on the fact that my idea of 'next time' is 'never'.

"Ok, I'll let you off the hook for now, but will you at least come out and say hi?"

_Ugh. She's so persistent, the little pixie. _ I could've used this small break to get a drink from the kitchen and give a perfunctory 'hi' to their boyfriends. I shut down my laptop and took a quick peek in the mirror to make sure I was somewhat presentable. After I decided my hair wasn't a complete haystack, I straightened my clothes a bit and walked out into the hallway. I could hear them laughing about something Emmett said. _Probably some sexual innuendo_, I thought snidely. I liked Emmett and Jasper well enough, but they weren't the most evolved men I'd ever met.

"Hey Bella!" Emmett boomed at me. I cringed at the volume.

"Hey guys," I give him and Jasper a small smile and then I see someone else is with them.

"Hi, I'm Edward," he said as he offered me his hand to shake. Wow. Could a man _be_ this beautiful? Here before me stood the most gorgeous specimen I had ever seen. Tall with a lean physique and hair thoroughly tousled like he just had a good tumble in bed and _his eyes_…his eyes were a shade of startling green. They were so deep in color and I felt like he could look into my soul.

"Hi. I'm Bella, as I'm sure you figured out,"

"So, Bella, how come you don't want to join us tonight? You don't want to make poor Eddie here the fifth wheel do you?" _Stupid Emmett._

"Well thanks for inviting me out, Emmett, but I actually have a lot of work I'd like to get done. I still have some lesson plans to go through." They didn't need to know I had shut down my laptop for the night, but maybe I could have read for a bit. I still hadn't had the chance to start the new Naomi Wolf book that _everyone_ was talking about.

"Oh, you're a teacher?" Edward asked.

"Well, just a Teaching Assistant. I'm working on my doctorate right now." _Please don't ask what I'm studying. Please don't ask what I'm studying. _I really didn't want to have to take this gorgeous man down a peg or two once he made some sexist comment.

"Edward is working on his doctorate, too, Bella!" Alice chimed in. "You should really join us so you two could talk more. You guys have a lot in common." _Yeah, I'll bet._

"Yeah Bella, we could always use another egghead so we don't have to listen to Eddie rant about the lack of intellect at the bars."

"How many times have I told you my name is Ed_ward_?" He sounded exasperated. I could only imagine the banter between them. I looked tentatively at him. His eyes were pleading. I felt my resolve slipping away as his eyes penetrated mine.

"Okay, alright. Let me change quickly and we can go."

"Great!" Edward beamed at me. _Honestly, I don't know why I let myself get involved in these situations._

I quickly changed into a simple black halter dress. Rose and Alice were a little more daring than I was, but I still liked dressing sexy when the occasion called for it.

"Edward will have to drive you there, Bella, there isn't room in Jasper's car," _Well that's just great._ Now I have to spend a half hour in the car with him. I didn't say anything but inclined my head to let her know I had heard.

We walked to his car – a silver Volvo. It looked shiny and new. _Good taste._

He moved to open my door for me but I put my hand on his to stop him. The feel of electricity that I felt when I touched him was shocking, but I didn't let it dissuade me from what I wanted to say.

"I can get the door, thank you," My tone was a bit clipped, and I didn't mean to sound so cold but I couldn't stand when someone thought I couldn't do something for myself.

He seemed a bit taken aback, but brushed it off lightly, "Sorry, my mom ingrained in me that I should always open the door for a lady, especially a beautiful one as yourself. Chivalry, right?" I blushed at that.

"Well that's rather charming of you, but I'm used to doing things for myself and women can be chivalrous too."

I got into the car and he walked over to the driver's side to let himself in. We both buckled ourselves in and he turned on the CD player. I recognized the tune that started to play.

"You like Team Dresch?!"

"Sure…why so surprised?" He looked at me quizzically.

"Well, I've never met a guy who liked obscure Riot Grrrl bands."

"I wouldn't really classify Team Dresch as Riot Grrrl, but I do appreciate that genre as well. I like a lot of different music," To prove his point, he fast forwarded to the next song on his CD, which I recognized as well. His hand nearly brushed my leg when he changed the song and I inwardly sighed. The crackling chemistry between us didn't show any signs of going away soon.

"I enjoy Debussy as well. You do indeed have varied interests," I smiled. It was so rare to find someone my age who appreciated such a variety of music.

"Where are you in your doctoral program?" I was actually thankful he started asking me about my program despite my earlier reservations. This man was too good to be true so far, and nothing acted as more of a cockblocker than the chauvinism that was sure to surface soon enough, "varied interests" or not. He probably just thought punk girls looked cute with their baby barrettes.

"Well, I've met with the committee to present my proposal already, and right now I am working on the first draft of my dissertation. You?"

"Not quite as far along, I am still working with my advisor to pinpoint my dissertation topic. It's been a slow process as I keep changing my mind." He paused. "What is your topic?"

"Um, the objectification of women in the entertainment industry."

"Entertainment industry? You mean Hollywood?"

"Well I suppose some of it is filmed there, but my focus is specifically on adult entertainment."

"You're researching porn?" His voice remained calm, but I was sure something else was lingering under the question.

"Yes," I didn't feel like clarifying.

His breathing quickened a bit before his next question.

"So do you watch a lot of porn for your research?"

"Well, yes, I kind of have to."

"And what do you think of it?"

I laughed at this one, "There is a lot of bad porn out there!"

"Are you opposed to pornography itself?"

"Not at all, I think it can be rather…enticing watching others have sex, but the industry seems to pander to a certain idea of how women should be and I don't agree with it."

I chanced a look at him. His eyes were glazed over a bit – I imagined from talking about porn.

"You don't think the industry is just catering to its clientele?"

"Yes, and it's true, men are predominantly the clientele for pornography, but there is a growing demographic of women who are embracing pornography in their sex lives and I think that demographic would like more representation in how women are portrayed."

His voice came out lower than before, "Are you included in this demographic?"

"I like to think so," I winked at him. "I enjoy sex and being sexy. I am not as much of a visual person, so for the most part I enjoy reading erotic fiction, but I do watch porn both on video and online."

He didn't respond to this and I noticed we'd pulled up to the club. As soon as he was parked, I unbuckle my seatbelt and opened my door before he had the chance to. The rest of the group wasn't here yet, so Edward came around to my side of the car and leaned up against the door next to me.

He leaned in close and whispered, "I like watching porn, too, but even sexier than that is reading Chuck Palahniuk describe a good fucking."

I looked at him with wide eyes. He had the sauciest 'I want to fuck your brains out' crooked grin on his face that made me want to lick him.

"Cat got your tongue?"

I was saved by Jasper's car pulling up beside us. Edward stood up straighter and cleared his expression. He turned to me to speak again, "We can finish this discussion later," I blushed and nodded.

After everyone got out of the car, we walked towards the club. There was a bit of a line, but Rose and Alice worked it a little to gain early entrance for us into the club.

I smirked at the display, which Edward noticed of course. Once we got inside he commented on my reaction.

"Guess you aren't a fan of them using their feminine wiles to get their way?"

"I wouldn't say that. I actually like that they are being assertive and getting what they want. I'm just amused at how typical the reaction from the door man was once they used their 'feminine wiles', as you called it."

We got to the bar and ordered our drinks. I ordered a Kir and Edward ordered whatever beer was on tap. I normally imagined that Edward was the type of guy that would offer to pay – what, with his 'chivalry' act, but after our door incident, he probably thought better of it.

Rose dragged me and Alice out to the dance floor while Jasper, Emmett and Edward talked at the bar. I liked dancing with the girls. We didn't go out often because of my time constraints, but I felt very carefree dancing with them. Rose's dancing was very sensual and while I wasn't normally attracted to women, I didn't mind saying the way she dances turned me on. Alice was attractive in her own right, but her dancing was different – peppier. It was still sexy, but in a more exuberant way.

I looked back over at the bar to see Edward staring intently. His intense stare emboldened me so I danced a little closer to Rose, nearly grinding her. Alice took the hint and came up behind me and soon we were all grabbing and grinding each other. He had to be enjoying this—I sure as hell was. I closed my eyes enjoying the feeling as we danced a few more minutes. I felt a hand on my upper arm and Edward leaned in to whisper, "May I have this dance?"

It was cheesy but I said yes anyhow. I wondered if he was going to pick up where our previous conversation left off. I didn't have long to wonder as he pulled me close to him and brushed his lips against my ear as he speaks.

"Tell me, Bella, what other kinds of research did you have to do?"

I shivered involuntarily. His question was innocent enough, but the tone made me think of so much more than just my research.

"I didn't do any _personal_ research if that's what you're implying."

"I wasn't implying anything of the sort." He smiled and pulled me closer to him. Our bodies were moving in sync to the music. His hands were guiding my hips to the beat and I wrapped my hands around his neck to keep me grounded.

"So no to the personal research, not that I asked, but what kinds of films did you end up watching? Did you gravitate towards any in particular?"

"No, I had to keep it objective regardless of my personal preferences."

"Oh? And what might those be?"

I gave him a wink, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He spun me around so my back was to his chest. All this research about sex while not actually getting any was starting to wear me down. I moved my ass against his crotch just slightly to see his reaction. He responded in kind and pushed forward so I could feel the full effect of my movements.

"You know love, if you keep doing that you will be partaking in personal research and _I'll_ be the one doing the objectification."

He moved his lips to my neck and placed hot open-mouthed kisses on me. With him so close to me I found it hard to concentrate.

"Are you going to tell me how would you objectify me?"

"If you want me to."

"I do, but let me forewarn you—I've seen and read quite a bit, so you'll have to be pretty creative to impress me."

The kisses on my neck were getting more intense as he sucked harder moving back up towards my ear.

"You are the sexiest creature I've ever met. You are so fucking hot and you can't even imagine how many ways I want to fuck you. That's not all I want to do, though. I want to videotape us fucking so you can watch what I do to you for your _research_. I want you to watch as I dominate you, take control of your body, and make you completely mine. I want you to watch yourself enjoying all of this."

I groaned as his words worked their way through my body. It didn't even register that his hands were moving as well. They were up and down my sides in firm but slow motions. Slowly his hands were moving southward. I was breathing so hard by this point it was a wonder I didn't pass out. His fingers were making their way under the hem of my dress teasing the flesh between my thighs. I was so close to just telling him 'take me now.' I wanted him to slam me hard against whatever surface he could find and fuck me into oblivion. I opened my mouth to tell him just that when I heard a voice interrupting us.

"Hey guys, there you are!" _Alice. Cockblocker._ "Rose isn't feeling well, so we're going to go home. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

Well if they were going to ditch me, maybe tonight was looking up after all.

"You know, Rose is probably going to keep me up all night throwing up in the bathroom. Maybe we could head to your place."

He gave me a knowing smile. "Sure."

"Great! Let's just stop by my place so I can pick up a few things."

"No need, I've already got a video camera at mine."

"Don't tease me now!"

"I don't intend to. Well, maybe just a little bit."

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**A/N:** Just some tongue-in-cheek :) I am without a doubt a feminist, but that doesn't mean I can't laugh at myself.  
notes: Betty Friedan was an activist and author; a Kir is crème de cassis (black currant) and white wine – usually my drink of choice; the course Bella TAs is an actual course at Vassar.

The Anti-Pleasure Dissertation title is taken from a Bikini Kill song. Link in profile!

If you like this, check out my other stories on my profile page.

**REVIEW** please!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **YAY! A continuation of this story! I have to say I quite like this Bella. I look forward in joining her as she moves beyond second wave feminism. If you want to talk theory with me, pm me and we can chit-chat.

SO! In great news, this story now has a beta! **EverIntruiged** has kindly taken the reins on this story! She worked her editing prowess on this chapter. She has also edited the previous chapter, but I have not uploaded her version yet. I will be swapping her edited version with the current one up tomorrow. Huzzah! Check out EverIntruiged's work...her link is in my profile under** favorite authors! **Many thanks to her!

Songs for this chapter are "I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone" by Sleater-Kinney and "The Trouble with Public Places" by Cadallaca. Links in profile.

Plz review because I am vain and I live off of shit like that.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own!

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"_I could criticize pornography until the cows come home but I will not criticize the power of pictures to arouse me: to arouse passion or ideas, erections or damp panties, fears, curiosities, unarticulated yearnings, and odd realizations."  
Susie Bright _

**BPOV**

After all the talking in the club, Edward couldn't seem to get me back to his car fast enough. I was so turned on with the fast pace we were moving didn't even occur to me – or if it did, was distracted by the ache between my legs.

"Edward, slow down," I laughed out, "I'm not the most coordinated person. If you keep moving us at this pace I'm going to fall!"

He breathed at me, "Don't worry, I'll catch you."

We finally got to the car and I let him open the door for me this time.

"Just this once," I teased.

We were both settled into the car and I was almost too nervous for conversation. What was going to happen once we got back to his place? I couldn't remember the last time I was so attracted to someone and it would be so disappointing if the experience was, well, _disappointing_.

I decided to calm my nerves a bit by trying to learn more about him.

"I never caught your last name, you know," I queried.

"Cullen, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen. You?"

"Swan, Isabella Marie Swan." I stated, imitating his tone. "I would love to hear about your area of research."

"I am studying to be a psychologist, and my area of research is paraphilias. As I mentioned earlier, I haven't quite narrowed my exact dissertation topic down, but I have a general idea where I am going to go with it."

"What are paraphilias?" I asked even though I already knew the answer. I was curious to see how he would describe the term, especially from an academic standpoint.

"According to DSM-IV classifications, they are areas of 'sexual deviance.' While I haven't pinpointed my thesis exactly, I'd like to show that the term for those with non-vanilla sexual practices are not necessarily atypical and that on the contrary, experimentation is healthy for a relationship."

I smiled inwardly. That last tidbit was definitely some interesting information to file away for future use.

"I'm assuming your interest lies more in fetishes," I trailed off suggestively, "rather than frottage?" I almost felt I could safely assume this, but you know what they say about being assuming….

"So you _are_ familiar with paraphilias," he quirked. "I had a feeling you knew when you asked me. To answer your question, frottage emphatically does not interest me in a personal way. Neither does pedophilia or transvestitism, though I wouldn't mind seeing _you_ in _my_ clothes." He grinned at me.

"I have to say, you don't strike me as a tranny-chaser."

He laughed loudly at this and it further eased any tension I was feeling.

"Bella, I can assure you that me wanting to see you in my clothes has nothing to do with cross-dressing. I just rather think I would like seeing you in my boxers…and nothing else." _Just like that, tension has reentered the room! _"We can talk about _that _tomorrow, though."

"Aren't you a bit cocky? Who says I'm staying the night?" I asked coyly. _Please, we both knew I was kidding._

"You'll need to if we want to get through all I want to do to you…for now, anyhow."

I didn't know where he lived, but assuming he lived close to my apartment, we still had a good ten minutes before arriving.

"Let's say for a minute I agree with your plans, why don't you tell me what does turn you on? Maybe we could compare and contrast."

The last sentence came out of my mouth without my even thinking about it, but the more I _did_ think about it I liked the idea. I could have a rational discussion—with a man I was in all probability going to have sex with—about his likes and dislikes, and mine in return. Not only was this idea of mine practical, but I had to admit it aroused me to think about discussing this with him. I was, after all, more of a literal person than visual, so this would serve as an excellent precursor to foreplay. This might even serve as foreplay itself.

He seemed amused with my question, or perhaps the way I worded it.

"Perhaps I should remind you of what we talked about earlier?"

I nodded.

"I believe I did mention something about a video camera, surely you remember that?" I gulped and nodded again. "And I'm sure you recall the part where I said I wanted to videotape us fucking?" _Gah… yeah I remember. _

I didn't respond but instead looked at him and was met with a sly smile. He _knew_ what he was doing to me. _Bastard. Oh, but a fuckable one._

"Well now you know some things that turn me on, so how about you? So we can compare and contrast, of course," he added.

'You,' I wanted to blurt out.

It's funny how I've never really told anyone what turns me on. For all the research I do about the subject, I've tried to keep myself objective and open to all genres within reason. I didn't have personal experience in the sex industry. This wasn't a personal journey in my research—this was me trying to change the way women in pornography were portrayed. I was giving a voice to women wanting to masturbate to images they can feel comfortable about. I was going to give women everywhere a pornographic safe space.

I was going to give other women a voice, but it was troubling I hadn't found mine. Being a feminist, I always felt it was my responsibility to take control in the bedroom. It wasn't being selfish; it was about making sure my needs were met—because let's be honest, I can't count how many times I've heard women say they've never had a man give them an orgasm. I've enjoyed being in charge and so have the partners I've been with, but there was still something missing. I had fantasized before about relinquishing control but I've never told anyone that fantasy. The idea of giving up power to a man felt wrong somehow. So far, Edward had seemed different. He had already expressed his leanings towards non-vanilla sex or at least he expressed that he was pro-"experimentation."

I've thought a lot about what it means to be a feminist in terms of sex. I've thought about actresses Belladonna and Sasha Grey and what they are portraying in their work. Both actresses have expressed they enjoy their work, specifically the type of porn they are doing. Neither of them counts themselves among victims of exploitation or objectification, but sometimes I wonder if by just being involved in the type of pornography they are producing that they are co-conspirators of the problem.

_God, did I just sound a little like Andrea Dworkin there? Gag._

That thought made me more inclined to tell him things I'd like to do but it didn't mean I had to tell him everything. What would he think about me after I've told him my fantasies?

He waited patiently while I sorted through my internal monologue and I finally decided it was time to speak.

"There are a lot of ideas that turn me on, and it's difficult to pinpoint any one thing," I paused, building up his anticipation, "but I do like the idea of shackles."

I had to hand it to him—his answering expression gave nothing away as to his reaction to my revelation. He kept his face calm even as he spoke next.

"Shackles for me or for you?"

"Me," I breathed, "if you're lucky."

If this were anyone else, I probably would have said "you." I'd never had such a candid and open discussion about sex with another man. It was both exhilarating and frightening. It made me hope tonight was the first of many experiences like this.

"So once I get you into these shackles, what happens then?"

"Well, at that point, I would hope that you would be the one with the ideas. You restraining me isn't about me _giving up_ power, it is about you taking control of meeting my needs. _Our _needs." When I said it like that, it actually made sense. Why I couldn't have told these thoughts to someone else before? It made me wonder what Andrea Dworkin devoted her life to: what actually happened behind closed doors? Who knew what _her_ proclivities were?

He pulled into the garage of his building and spoke, "I think I would enjoy that." His tone was full of promise that I wouldn't be disappointed in our evening.

After he put the car in park, we both got out and he led the way. The hallway was beautifully decorated in muted creams and golds. He took my hand and guided me towards the elevator. He inserted a key and pressed the "P" button. Penthouse…hmm.

"This is a beautiful building. How long have you lived here?" I asked politely.

"Just a few years. My father owns the building and when I decided to come back here for my PhD he offered me this apartment." He said it so simply like it wasn't a big deal that his father owned one of the nicest apartment buildings I've ever had the opportunity to be in.

"Where did you go for undergrad?"

"I went to Dartmouth for my undergrad and for my masters. You?"

"I went to Smith for undergrad and came here for my Masters and decided to stay to finish my doctorate."

Since his was the only apartment on the floor, the elevator opened immediately into it. I found myself in a narrow, dimly lit hallway. He slipped past me and flicked a light switch on. His apartment was decorated in a much more modern fashion than the lobby of the building. It was simple and understated with clean lines that clearly showed this apartment belonged to a man.

I was so lost in taking in the surroundings that I didn't notice he was standing so close to me until he put an arm on my shoulder and said, "Can I get you a drink? Then I can show you the apartment."

"Sure."

"White or red?"

"White, if you have it."

He beckoned me to follow him. He pointed little things out along the way. A painting here, his grandmother's antique dresser there… it was all utterly enrapturing. We walked into the kitchen and he grabbed a bottle of Pinot Grigio out of the wine refrigerator.

"This okay?" I nodded as he grabbed two glasses to pour into. He handed me my glass and I took a sip. It was delicious.

"Bella, what we talked about earlier…we don't have to do that right now. I only want you to do what you are comfortable with. I want you to enjoy this as much as I know I will."

"Are you saying don't want to tie me up?" I asked jokingly. He laughed in return and the air seemed to lighten a bit.

He grinned crookedly at me, "This isn't about what I want."

We finished our wine in a comfortable silence and he continued the tour of the apartment.

"I thought I'd save the best for last," he said with a smirk, "this is my bedroom."

_What a bedroom it was!_ It was at least twice the size of mine with a large multi-paned window that overlooked the city. It felt perfect in here, almost too romantic considering the not-so-romantic thoughts I was entertaining about how to utilize this room. It felt like a cliché with me looking out over the city as he came up behind and moved my hair as he began placing open mouth kisses on my neck. His breath was hot and it sent shivers up my spine. He placed his hands on either side of my body trapping me against the glass. It was quite a contrast feeling the coolness of the window versus the heat of his body against my skin. I arched my body into his wanting more than just these soft kisses and whispers of touching from his hands. He complied and pressed his hands firmly into my sides running them up and down until they guided upward to the halter strap at the nape of my neck. His fingers worked gingerly to untie the straps and I felt them cascade along my body. With my neck unadorned, he went back to his previous ministrations with kisses and licks.

"Do you like teeth?" He asked into my skin.

I ground out a yes and groaned inwardly at the implications of the question. With my response in hand I felt a soft nip at my shoulder. He grazed his teeth along my skin without it feeling harsh. It felt amazing. I felt his fingers tracing patterns on my back as they moved lower to where the zipper was for the dress. He moved the zipper down torturously slowly and tugged the dress off my body. He broke off his kisses to let me step out of the dress and he removed his shirt. He turned me around left only in my underwear since I couldn't wear a bra with this dress and raked his eyes up and down my body.

"You're beautiful and those might just be the best tits I've ever seen."

I blushed at his compliment and giggled a bit. I felt like a school girl. _My hormones were certainly running wild like one._

He bent his head down and took one of my nipples in his mouth… _Fuck. So hot and wet._ He bit gently and tugged while one hand moved to my other breast and began massaging it. He let go of the nipple in his mouth to give the other equal treatment and moved his hands to my hips playing with the lace of my underwear. He moved his mouth off of my breast and kissed his way down my stomach as he knelt down and pulled my underwear off me until I stood before him completely naked. He stood back up and took a step away from me to look me over again, his eyes raw with lust.

"Wait here," he commanded. "I need to grab a few things."

He walked over to his closet, still just clothed in pants. I eyed the planes of his bare back—that alone was enough to get me wet. My eyes widened as I saw him walk back with rope and a video camera. I guess he wasn't kidding about the last part.

"Have you done this before?" he asked me.

"No. I've never been tied up…or videotaped for that matter."

"I think you'll like both. You'll like giving yourself over to me and I think you'll enjoy watching how turned on you were during such. There is no exploitation or objectification in this. There is no right or wrong here, but if there is anything you don't like, just tell me."

He tied rope to the head and footboard of the bed. He grabbed the camcorder and moved it on top of a dresser. That made it feel slightly less creepy. At least he didn't have a tripod set up. He walked towards me and stopped directly in front of me.

"Undress me and lie down on the bed," His tone was firm but not harsh_…_and all the more arousing.

I worked the button and zipper and moved his pants down his body in quick succession and saw he wasn't wearing anything underneath. _Hm. My kind of man. _After undressing him, I made my way onto the bed. I laid there, not knowing what else I was supposed to be doing. He started with my left hand and wrapped the rope around it just tight enough that there would be marks when we were done, but not so tight that it would be uncomfortable. He followed with my right hand in the same fashion, followed by my right and left foot. I was sprawled out for him, naked. I felt very vulnerable like this. It was something I had been fantasizing about ever since I realized sex didn't always have to mean missionary, but acting out on this fantasy felt different.

Edward seemed to be able to sense my shift in comfort when he spoke to me.

"Relax, Bella, we won't do anything you don't want to do." _As if I wouldn't want to do anything with this man…_

He lowered himself to the bed and with the lightest of touches moved his hands along my thighs. I relaxed into his touch and tried to move my body to feel more but I couldn't. He smirked at me.

"Patience is a virtue, my pet."

I whimpered as he moved his lips where his fingers had been, just ghosting up my thighs. His hands moved closer to where I needed him and I gasped as I felt his thumb brush against my clit. He moved his thumb just as quickly as I felt it and his fingers glided along my folds touching and testing how I felt—if I was ready for him.

"I think we both are too foregone for foreplay tonight, love."

He reached over me to a drawer in his nightstand to grab a condom and rolled it on. God it was a sight seeing him fully erect for_ me_…watching him hover above waiting to _fuck _me_._ He moved himself into position between my legs with his tip at my entrance. He looked at me again one last time to ask silent permission. I nodded my head and he took me. He pushed into me fast and hard and began moving in a steady motion. He was so thick and hard. It was so intense. Sex had never felt like this for me before. He took control over everything but I never lost my power. I was straining against the rope and panting as he moved above me. He moved his mouth to mine in a searing kiss as he pounded harder into me. He sucked on my lower lip and then let go of it to snake his tongue into my mouth. He moved his tongue in the same rhythm as his dick moved inside me. His hands were all over my body and it felt like torture not being able to touch him back. I wanted to run my hands all over him and feel my ankles dig into his ass as he rode me.

I could feel the orgasm building in my body as I tensed up in anticipation. He could feel it too and released my mouth from his so he could look into my eyes and watch me as I came. The force of it rocked my body and I convulsed as much as I could in the confines of the ropes. He felt my body clench around him and with a grunt I felt him pulse inside me. He slowed his pace when he finished coming and pulled out of me. He took the condom off of his dick and threw it in the trash can. I laid there panting. I couldn't have moved even if it were physically possible. It was the most intense orgasm I had ever felt. We laid there for awhile with me still tied up and his body heavy on top of me.

When I finally felt I was able to speak coherently I spoke in a breathy voice, "Why don't you go rewind the video?"

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**A/N: **weeellll, I'm not so sure we've seen the full extent of Edward's preferences.

The quote from the beginning of the chapter is taken from "The Bust Guide to the New Girl Order." Info for said book is listed in the "reading list" I put up on my profile page. I don't get too heavy into feminist theory, but I like personal essays a lot.

DSM = Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders

Major note: neither Bella or myself are Andrea Dworkin fans. I do not agree with her viewpoints, but I do think she was an important figure (however warped her opinions may have been) in the feminist movement in terms of pornography.

I will put wiki links for any items needing further clarification.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Where the inspiration came for this:

1. Talking with a friend recently about how modern porn basically sucks and how hard it is to find ethical porn. Bring back **Debbie Does Dishes**.

2. I *ahem* happen to share a lot of ideas/thoughts with Bella in this story and it can be hard to come to terms with the idea of submitting to fantasies in respect to the idea that she feels she is giving into a patriarchal stereotype of submissive women.

3. There was a great photo series called **"This is not an Invitation to Rape Me,"** by LACAAW. While it doesn't specifically deal with this story, it prompts a lot of ideas about what is "acceptable" for women. How we dress, who we fuck, _how_ we fuck, etc. (link in profile for photo series)

Many thanks to **EverIntruiged** for beta'ing this! She's awesometastic. (and hasn't even commented on my total craziness!) Link for her on my profile under favorite authors!

Thanks to those **reviewing**/alerting/favoriting this story.

**Note:** if I ever forget to write in "condom" please assume it's there. The pill is _not_ my idea of "safe sex." Also I guess I should put a "there's light BDSM here!" warning.

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"_Pornography grabs us and doesn't let go. Whether you're revolted or enticed, shocked or titillated, these are flip sides of the same response: an intense, visceral engagement with what pornography has to say. And pornography has quite a lot to say."_

_Laura Kipnis, from __Bound and Gagged: Pornography and the Politics of Fantasy in America_

**BPOV**

I felt pretty spent after our previous actions. The rope was in place so I was still unable to move. As hot as it was fulfilling a fantasy of mine, it was starting to get uncomfortable between the rope and his body weight on me. He still hadn't gotten up, despite my request about him getting the video. I cleared my throat to get his attention.

"So…do you think you could untie me?" I asked.

He looked at me with a sly smile, "Not yet, love. Let me go grab the tape." I grunted in response and he laughed at me.

"Relax, honey," I gave him a pointed look. I didn't like being called 'honey'. He smirked. I imagined it was ironic of me to balk at honey after being tied up to his bed.

"Relax, _Bella_. Do you really want me to untie you now?"

"For now, yes. Maybe we can explore this more later? As much as I enjoyed being tied up, not being able to touch you was excruciating."

He nodded and immediately began to untie my wrists and feet. I rubbed my hands around my wrists, noting the strain marks from the rope. I_ liked_ seeing them there. They marked the experience and a turning point for me.

"You don't think being unable to touch me intensified the experience? You strike me as someone used to being in control of every aspect of your life. By submitting control, it made the sole focus on _your _pleasure, not mine."

"Hmm. That seems debatable. You seemed to enjoy yourself quite well," I intoned.

"Of course I _enjoyed_ myself, Bella—you were bound to my bed waiting for me to fuck you! I challenge anyone to _not _enjoy that scenario. But the fact that I enjoyed it isn't the point."

"Alright, then pray tell, what _is _the point?" I sat up and wrapped my arms around my legs. I was getting cold without the heat of his body to warm me up. He was perched on the edge of the bed.

"Did that live up to your expectations?" he asked, instead.

I almost laughed in response.

"Uh, yeah. I mean I just fulfilled a fantasy I had been thinking about for years. I'd say it did more than 'live up' to my expectations."

"Then that's all that matters," He stated simply.

I could see he wasn't going to clarify the matter further so I didn't bother asking. If he wasn't in the mood to tell me exactly what he meant with his statement, I wouldn't push him. It wasn't as if I was some insecure, clingy girlfriend. He was right though, I was Type-A to the extreme. Add 'radical feminist' to that equation and it definitely made for an interesting orgasm. Let Freud work _that_ one out.

He got up from the bed and took the tape out of the camera. I took that moment to examine his body. I didn't really get a good chance to before, but it was worth the wait to savor every chiseled muscle. I quickly looked away when he walked back towards me with the tape. He sat next to me on the bed and I moved my gaze to look at the tape. It was hard to wrap my head around the idea that it was _me_ on there.

"Would you like to watch this with me now?" His eyes were trained on mine with a questioning expression, making sure this was still what I wanted.

"Yes," I responded. I did want to see this. I knew how I_ felt_ during sex but it would be interesting to see my expressions and reactions that I didn't catalogue in my brain.

He rewound the tape in the player and pressed play. He came back to the bed and sat behind me and spread his legs out. He pulled me in between them and brushed my hair aside to watch over my shoulder. The tape started out fuzzy and then we came into view. It started in when he asked me to undress him.

I couldn't see his face on the tape, but I could definitely make out mine. Watching him move over and above me and seeing the reactions he elicited from me was enough to solidify my feelings on the issue. I liked being dominated and I knew I wanted_ this_ man to do it again. I felt his breath on my neck as he looked on with me.

"_When she walks, the revolution's coming,"_ he whispered in my ear. Screen Edward was pounding into me.

"_In her hips, there's revolution," _his tongue trailed a path on the outside of my ear. I groaned both at the action and the motions on the tape. Even with the limited mobility I had had from the rope, I could see our bodies rocking together in tandem.

"_When she talks, there's revolution," _Screen Edward was kissing me. I wanted to freeze that moment in time and live in it forever with him fucking, sucking and kissing me.

"_In her kiss, I taste the revolution," _and his whisper during that last line was low and rough.

He lightly bit the side of my neck and I whimpered. _God, did I want to fuck him again._ I continued to watch the screen when my climax was apparent. The look on my face as I came on screen was wild. That look was exactly what I was chasing after in all my fantasizing. Total abandon and loss of control—complete and utter ecstasy. The video stopped and I turned my head to look at him, "I want to watch it again, only this time I want you to fuck me _while_ we watch,"

His eyes darkened even more than I thought possible at my declaration and he got up to rewind the tape again. He didn't press play, but instead walked back with the remote in his hand.

"Come here, Bella," he gestured to the side of the bed where he was standing.

"Bend down on the bed and clasp your hands together behind your back. Keep your shoulders off of the bed," his tone was enough to send every bit of blood rushing to my groin and then his _words_…I followed his instructions and put myself in the position he asked. He was moving behind me and I heard a drawer open and the tearing of a condom wrapper. I stayed in position and felt rope being wrapped around my hands again. He didn't anchor them to anything and only adjusted my position to turn my cheek to lie on the bed so I could see the TV. He pressed play and stood behind me. The tape played again and we returned to the scene of me undressing him on the tape. With that command spoken, he plunged into me. He held onto my hips and used them to push himself further into me. I felt my body going weak at the force of his movements but I held my position. I watched us fucking, feeling everything I felt from the earlier viewing only magnified by the feeling of him inside me. His pace was fast and hard, deep into me. I was losing myself to the feeling as he moved.

He continued pounding watching both me and the screen when he leaned over me to whisper in my ear, "You are about to come onscreen. I want you to come again for me now as you watch yourself come apart," His movements never slowed as he was commanding me to come. It was so almost unbearably hot having him take control of my pleasure and I came instantaneously. I worked his cock as I continued to come and his body collapsed on mine as he came, screaming my name.

His head was on my neck and I felt his breathing steady.

"Next time I'll let you touch me," He may have meant it to be suggestive and smooth, but his statement kind of pissed me off.

"That's if I_ let_ you fuck me again," I retorted.

I wanted him to dominate and control me but I wanted it to be on my terms. Rope or no rope, he would not be the one determining the dynamics of this relationship. He unbound my hands and helped me up from the bed. He turned me around to face him and looked me in the eyes.

"Fair enough," he said with meaning. I nodded in acknowledgment that I considered the matter resolved. He picked his boxers up off the floor and put them on. He handed me his shirt to put on. I took it and pulled it over my head. It was too big for me but I liked it anyhow. I took a whiff of the shirt—it smelled just like him. He caught my eye at that moment and smirked at the gesture.

"My shirt looks great on you."

"It does, doesn't it? Just don't expect me to wear more of your clothes to soothe your predilections." I teased, bringing back the lightness of our earlier banter.

"I thought we already decided I wasn't a 'tranny-chaser?'"

"Mm. Jury still seems to be out on that notion." I clucked my tongue at him.

"Are you hungry? I was thinking we could grab a bite to eat?"

"I'm starving, thanks."

I followed him into the kitchen as he scoured the refrigerator looking for something feasible.

"Do you eat meat?"

"Not really, no." I responded.

"Are you a vegetarian?"

"No, I just don't really care for the taste. I haven't eaten meat in quite some time but I do eat items with gelatin in them."

He nodded, "I have some leftover pasta I could heat up? It has a meatless marinara sauce."

I smiled, "That sounds delicious," He put the pasta in the microwave and turned it on.

I really wanted to talk to him about the situation we'd found ourselves in. I wasn't sure how to broach the subject so I just spoke with what came to my mind first, "So do you do this often?" I was pretty sure he knew I wasn't talking about the pasta.

"If by _this_, you mean: is this the type of lifestyle I lead, then yes…but to answer the underlying question, no, I've never been one to have sex with random strangers…you seemed different."

"I see," I didn't really. I'd had 'one-night stands' before and wasn't sure if I thought this would really be that different. I continued, "So you don't see this as a one-night stand?"

"I was hoping you would want to continue this…relationship…and explore this side of you," he responded.

The way he spoke the statement made it seem like more of a question. He was letting me decide where this would end. I definitely wanted to explore this newfound experience, particularly with this man. I could see he would let me move at a pace I was comfortable with—without defined roles. I needed that flexibility.

"I would love to continue to explore this. I think we need to sit down and talk about what is expected of the other, though. This is nothing like I've ever been involved with. I've done the whole handcuffs and blindfold thing, but this," I gestured between us, "is something entirely new to me."

I paused to think about the situation. When he made that comment earlier about what he would _let _me do for the next time I was both turned on and disgusted. I wasn't sure how much of my internal struggle I wanted to share with him, but I wanted to make it clear that this might be difficult for me in more ways than this just being a new experience.

"I really enjoyed our previous _activities_," he smirked at my choice of word, "but I want to make you understand that this is difficult for me. I'd told you I fantasized about this…and I have, for quite some time, but it is hard for me to submit in recognition of what the idea of it means to me."

He nodded in understanding before speaking, "I can see where you are coming from and I understand your reservations…but why don't we take this one step at a time to work out our own definitions and boundaries of where we want this to go? Then we can re-evaluate things and change the relationship as we see fit?"

I grinned at him, "I like that idea."

He returned my smile and grabbed the pasta out of the microwave and put it on plates for the both of us. I smiled as we began to eat, excited at the prospect of my newfound relationship with Edward.

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**A/N:** So what do you think? **Please** **review and let me know!** As of now, my plans are to update this once a week, but if I get enough response (cough) I may up the ante to twice per week.

Next chapter, I think we'll hear more of Edward's line of research...and see them explore more of their relationship.

The song Edward whispered to Bella is "Rebel Girl" by Bikini Kill. It's kind of the 'theme song' of the Riot Grrrl movement. (and yes, I was a member of Riot Grrrl DC for a brief period in my youth) Link to the song and wiki for Riot Grrrl in profile.

Type 'A' personalities, for those that aren't familiar, are generally considered uptight.

I want to point out that this story is not anti-transvestitism or transsexuality. I *do* find 'tranny-chasers' offensive only because I liken it to race-fetishism.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thanks guys for all the awesome thoughts via your reviews! Keep 'em coming, I enjoy the discourse! I try to respond to every review/pm, so if you have any questions let me know. If you are reading my other multi-chap, Remains To Be Seen, I promise I am working on it right now.

A few peeps commented they found Bella to be pretentious and snobby. I disagree (of course I _am_ biased) but I implore anyone who agrees with the sentiment to instead think of Bella as someone who is attuned to her needs and wants, even if she hesitates in reaching for said needs and wants. She may be jaded, but she's trying.

Jacques Lacan might be rolling in his grave at my use of his idea of jouissance, but I'mma do it anyhow. Wiki links in profile.

Continued thanks to **EverIntruiged** for beta'ing this story! Link to her on my profile under favorite authors.

**Disclaimer:** don't own! Also, in case you missed the warning in last chapter 'light BDSM' in play.

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"_What does it matter how many lovers you have if none of them gives you the universe?"_

_Jacques Lacan_

**BPOV**

I took a bite of the pasta and let out a hum of delight at the taste. "This is great, did you make it?"

He nodded, "I like to cook when I get the chance. I'm usually not home as often as I'd like, though."

I smiled in understanding, "Too busy at the library?"

"That and the clinic."

"Which clinic do you work at?" There were so many grad schools in the DC-area that it was hard to keep up.

"The Masen Center at GW. I am there two days a week. It's run as a sliding-scale clinic and has quite a varied case-load."

"I can imagine you must get all kinds of interesting cases in a city like this." I smiled wickedly thinking of all the unusual people living in this city. His expression didn't match mine. I gathered he took his work very seriously.

"I do, but predominantly, I end up seeing students, since it is on campus."

"That doesn't get uncomfortable? That either of you could see the other on campus?"

"Not really. It's such a big school and I rarely have interactions with undergrads. Even if I did perchance see a student, I wouldn't dream of alluding to the professional relationship I have with them. I respect their right to maintain anonymity,"

It was interesting hearing him talk about his job like this. I imagined he would make a good psychologist.

I ate some more of my pasta and thought of what I wanted to say next. I knew I wanted to ask him more about our… situation. Was it a relationship? Did he even _have_ relationships outside of this sexual realm?

I felt so cheesy wanting to ask him if we were dating or whether or not this made him my boyfriend. I looked at the clock on the microwave and it was just after one in the morning yet I didn't feel anywhere near tired. I didn't quite feel brave enough to broach the 'what are we?' question, so I decided to ask him another question instead.

"What was your first experience like?" I asked him casually between bites. I was almost done with my pasta but I felt like dragging my meal out. I was really enjoying this conversation.

"I was sixteen and it was in the back of my parents' Volvo. It wasn't a great experience, but as I said, I was _sixteen_," he smiled, probably knowing that wasn't what I was asking, "my first foray into the world of BDSM was quite different. I was twenty-two and at a much different place in life than one is at sixteen. I didn't know where I could even find someone to experience something like that with. I wasn't dating at the time and most of the girls I had dated probably would have balked at some of the ideas that were in my head." Sordid images of varying positions of me and him came to my mind when he said that and the image of me bent over his lap as he spanked me particularly called out to me.

"I went to a 'fetish night' at a local club and met a girl there who introduced me to small elements of BDSM. I approached her because she was selling floggers—that she made herself. I won't bore you with the details, but she definitely made a convert of me." He grinned at me as he finished the last of his pasta. "Have I made a convert of you?" he asked coyly. I blushed as I thought of my earlier 'conversion.'

He grinned even wider. "Can I take your blush as a yes?"

"Yes, you've made a convert of me. I don't know what I'll do with myself now. I don't even have a head or footboard to attach anything to. That's something I'm definitely going to have to rectify." I looked up sheepishly to see the grin still on his face at my comment.

"Oh you don't need to adjust that, you know they make under the bed restraints now—doesn't require any kind of frame for a bed."

"Maybe that's something I'll have to invest in," I agreed. "Can I ask what got you into all of this, I mean S&M?" He smirked at my obvious discomfort with the topic. The idea of saying 'S&M' had me envisioning chaps and leathermen. It amazed even me, 'miss sex-positive,' how uncomfortable I felt with the termage.

"I guess I got into BDSM my senior year of undergrad. We were doing a segment on Lacan and had just gotten into the subject of _jouissance_. It really intrigued me—the idea of pleasure and pain together; of coming to a brink but not quite going over the edge. Of _wanting_ to go over the edge. Jouissance defies socially acceptable norms and BDSM goes with that idea and takes it a step further. Some people find the idea of this almost unbearable but I relish in pushing myself almost too far." He was very intense as he spoke his piece. "Have you ever seen the movie _Gas, Food, Lodging_?"

"I have, but it was a long time ago." It was an intriguing choice of movie to bring up now, but I was sure he had his reasons.

"Do you remember when Darius was talking to Shade about Olivia Newton John?" It seemed a rhetorical question but I nodded anyhow. "Darius said, 'It's like Adam and Eve. He was fine grooving in paradise, but Eve wanted something scary. She wanted the fucking edge. She wanted to jump off cliffs just so she could see what it was like to fall."

I admired his passion and conviction as he spoke. I could see exactly what he was talking about, and I found myself agreeing with him. Having sex with him earlier was exhilarating and felt so very different from other sexual experiences I had before. He had already shown the same passion in the bedroom and I flushed at the thought of getting to see it again.

"This idea, this extreme pleasure, is what prompted my interest in research into the ideas of what classifies as sexual deviance. In my mind there are different ideas of what can be classified as 'normal,'" he paused in thought, "people don't recognize that masochism exists everywhere. Is continually pining for someone who doesn't recognize your existence any different than wanting to be flailed with a whip?"

I put up my hands in defense. "No need to defend your fantasies—you've already made a convert of me, remember? I want the whip. I'll _beg_ for the whip if I have to," I looked at him through my lashes. He eyed me hungrily and I felt a distinct shift in the atmosphere as we both stood up—changing from casual conversation back to the electrical charge we felt earlier. We were both finished with our meals and he grabbed our plates to put them in the sink. I stared at the dishes before he spoke.

"I can wash them in the morning," he said in a firm tone.

Looking at him rendered me unable to speak for the moment.

"Bella, I wanted to talk more about your thoughts and concerns about this relationship, but right now I don't think I can do anymore talking." His eyes were hooded and I was sure my expression mirrored his thoughts—I needed him. _Now_.

He grabbed my hand and dragged me down the hall back towards his bedroom. When we got inside his room he halted us both and commanded me to stay where I was. He walked back towards me with a wide black leather blindfold.

"You said it was 'unbearable' not being able to touch me, so I'd like to remove another sense in place of that—to keep you at my mercy." He motioned for me to sit on the bed and stretched the elastic back of the blindfold around my head before he put the blindfold to cover my eyes. I had been blindfolded before, so it wasn't a new experience for me but right now it had a different feeling, a different meaning. Before blindfolding was just something I did with a partner to 'spice up' our sex life. Now, though? It felt like letting him blindfold felt like an act of submission—of me _giving _my sense over to him and letting him do with it what he pleased. I felt total darkness and was excited about what could happen next.

I felt his hands graze the top of my thighs, pulling at the hem of my shirt. His hands brushed against my body as they moved my shirt above my head, lifting my arms in the process. When the shirt was removed from me completely, I was left naked sitting on the bed. I heard him breathing and he seemed to be on the left side of the room. I tilted my head and tried to listen more closely only to be met with the sound of him pacing instead.

I heard clacking that sounded like he was rummaging through a box trying to find something. Footsteps sounded again and they were coming closer to me. His breathing came so close I could feel it on my skin. The breathing continued but he made no movement against me.

"Edward… what are you doing?" I asked impatiently.

"Bella, I need you to be quiet right now. Nod your head yes if you can do that." I nodded anxiously in agreement. He seemed pleased with my response.

"Very good." His hands touched me finally and he positioned me on my back. He moved away from me momentarily and I wanted to whimper at the loss of contact but I maintained my silence.

He repositioned himself at my feet, slowly licking up my leg with his teeth softly grazing my skin. While his mouth worked my one leg his hand gripped the other and he kneaded my flesh as his body moved higher up. When he reached his destination I was practically writhing in anticipation. He hitched one of my legs over his shoulder and held my body in place with his arms as he moved his tongue to my clit. _God. _I had felt his tongue other places along my body but nothing could have compared to feeling it _there_. He started with slow licks and then moved the flesh of my hood away from my clit to lavish his tongue there. After working my clit with his tongue he started to gently suck and hum. I could feel my orgasm building as he continued to suck harder. With my clit in his mouth, he gently tugged with his teeth and I couldn't hold it in any longer. I came as he released his teeth and continued to suck on my clit. My hands were gripping on the sheets as I rode out the rest of my orgasm. I wished at that point I could have seen him sucking on me as I came.

I was in a daze as he moved himself even further up my body, keeping my leg on his shoulder. I noticed his boxers were gone and he was rock hard against my thigh. He pushed into me with one swift stroke and began pumping hard. I was still pretty sensitive from my previous orgasm and I could feel another one building again quickly. I wanted to scream and shout and tell him how fucking amazing this felt, but I said nothing. He continued fucking me hard and I felt the vibrations throughout my whole body. Each thrust, each pant, each moan of his, no matter how tiny—I felt and heard them all. Even the faint sound of our flesh slapping together seemed incredibly loud compared to my silence. I felt his body tense and I knew he was ready to come. He kept moving inside me willing his climax to come. A twitch and a pulse later I felt him spasm inside me. He slowed his pace and moved a few more strokes before he pulled out of me. I didn't move, unsure of what to expect next. I felt his body heave beside mine and heard the snapping of what I assumed to be the condom. We both continued to lay in bed sweaty and panting and I waited for him to speak.

"You were amazing Bella," he said in a breathy tone. "Tomorrow, we will sit down and talk about everything. For now, let's go to sleep."

He pulled the covers over both of us and cuddled up next to me in bed. He brushed my hair aside and I felt his hot breath against my ear, "Keep the blindfold on, love."

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**A/N: **Well, there you go! Chapter 4! Hope you are still with me and enjoying this! **Please Review and lemme know what you think.** (even if it's to say I am crap on a stick)

I hadn't clarified where they were living now but since I am pretty familiar with DC (I lived and worked as a photographer there), I figured it would be fun to have them living there. GW is George Washington University. Bella goes to American.

_Gas, Food, Lodging _is a great movie and Donovan Leitch was my "movie star boyfriend" for quite some time after seeing that. Fairuza Balk still remains the epitome of beauty to me even if she looks a bit scary now. (it's the makeup!)

Um, they really do make under-the-bed restraint systems. You can find them at places like goodvibes and babes in toyland. They also make sheets that have restraints _on them_. The sheets are expensive, though, and a bit too rich for my blood. (I don't have a headboard or footboard either, tmi). Still not as expensive as 24K handcuffs, though. (hi kathy!)

I've been reading two great books lately; I'll put them in my 'reading list' section on my profile. The first is called _A Defense of Masochism_ and the second is _Sadomasochism in Everyday Life_. They both bring up interesting points, particularly the latter which makes you think about sadomasochism in the dynamics of everyday situations.

A fetish night is not the same thing as going to a play party, to clarify. (at least at the clubs I've been to) While there may be BDSM elements, it's much more of a 'mainstream' environment. Think people dressed up for Rocky Horror dancing to techno music. I once knew a girl who handmade leather floggers. That's pretty fucking hot if you ask me.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **First things first! You may (or may not) have noticed the summary changed for this story. The initial summary fit what I wrote for the cocktease contest, but didn't really gel with where the rest of this story ended up going. Credit to **mskathy** (aka Twilighted's own Susie Bright) for helping with the wording of the summary! But wait! That's not where my slobbery kisses end for her! She also started a thread on Twilighted. If you're so inclined, check it out. Link is on profile. There's lots of awesome theory discussion and I will post teasers/etc there!

Song for this chapter is **"Oh" by Fugazi.** Link in profile. (I chose a Guy song because when I lived in DC I would see him around town and every time I'd see him I swear he could tell I was thinking dirty thoughts--of him)

Thx to **EverIntruiged** for Beta'ing this story! She done work that red pen good! She even told me my writing is improving so I guess that means y'all get an extra good chapter ;-) Link for her under favorite authors in my profile!

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**BPOV**

When I woke up the next morning I opened my eyes and it was completely dark. I wondered briefly if I woke up too early in the morning until I went to rub my eyes and remembered everything from last night. The rope, the sex, the video—_the blindfold_.

I had lived out so many fantasies last night and I could barely quell the feeling of contentment building up inside me. Though I couldn't see, I could feel the weight of Edward on the bed. I heard steady breathing and assumed he was still sleeping. I wanted to see what he looked like in such a vulnerable state of sleep, so I reached my hand to lift the blindfold up just a bit to see. My hand was to the corner of the blindfold about to lift up when I felt his hand on mine.

"Bella," His response was short and demanding. With just my name he was telling me _I_ was going to do as _he_ wished. _And I would_.

He moved my hand back down to my side and I waited to see what his next action would be.

"We can continue this later, Bella, for now let's go to the kitchen so we can get some breakfast and talk." I felt his hands just above my eyebrows as he pulled the blindfold off of my head. The light hit me and I immediately recoiled from the shock. It was jarring to have such a contrast in brightness and made me feel slightly less coherent.

I looked down and realized I was still naked, so I grabbed the discarded shirt again from last night and put it on. He was already in his boxers—he had probably been up much longer than me. He grabbed my hand and led me towards the kitchen. I briefly mused whether or not he would cook breakfast for me, or if we would have something simple like cereal. We got to the kitchen and he motioned for me to take a seat.

"What would you like to eat, love? I could make us some omelets or I've got waffles in the freezer? Tell me what you'd like."

"A veggie omelet would be lovely, thank you." I rubbed my thighs to warm myself up as I spoke.

He smiled and nodded in return. I watched him as he grabbed a pan from the cabinet and snatched the appropriate ingredients from the refrigerator. He hummed while he began to prepare breakfast. _Even his voice was perfect._

"That's beautiful, what is it?" I asked, curious.

"Hmm? Oh, just a melody I came up with just now."

"Do you play music?"

"Piano when I have time," I nodded my head and he went back to humming while he cooked.

He finished cooking and set our plates on the table and sat down to eat with me. We ate in silence and I waited for him to speak once we were both finished.

"Bella, we need to talk about things," I nodded in agreement, but didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what I could offer the conversation just yet.

"Last night was… intriguing to say the least," he said in a curious tone. I gave a small 'hmm' in response to him, wanting him to continue his thoughts.

"I know we talked about this before, but I've never taken anyone home with me like that. I mean, yes, I've had one-night stands, but I already know this isn't that for me and I hope it isn't that for you." He looked at me in earnest. His eyes were pleading with me to understand how serious he was. I was taken aback by the fierceness of his expression.

"I told you I was okay with continuing this, remember? I can do relationships… but is that what this is? I mean are we _dating_ now?" I tried to keep my voice calm. All the questions from last night came flooding through my head and I let them be spoken. If he wanted more, then so did I.

"Dating, seeing each other, enjoying a relationship partaking in Dominance and submission… you can call it any and all of those things." _Dominance and submission?_ He had been using the blanket term of BDSM before to talk about things, but a submissive? Is that what I would be? I didn't know if I felt comfortable enough to call myself that. _What would he have me call him?_

"I'm not going to call you master," I said quickly, voicing my thoughts. He gave me a pointed look.

"Bella, have you ever heard the phrase 'topping from the bottom?'"

I shook my head 'no' in response.

"It's exactly how it sounds—you said you wanted to relinquish control, to give yourself over to me yet you are trying to reclaim that control. That's not what you want and it's not going to satisfy _either_ of us," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. It wasn't meant to be harsh, but to tell me what he needed me to hear.

He was right, I knew he was, but I had never completely offered my submission. I had only conceded that I wanted to be dominated. I _told him_ how hard this would be for me.

"Bella, this is your choice. Remember that word—choice—because choosing something is different than having it _chosen_ for you. We can negotiate things now, but I just want you to know what I want… and what I think you want. I assumed from all you've told me so far that you wanted this?"

I _did_ want this—everything he was saying and offering. The idea of negotiating terms seemed odd to me, but maybe this was something that was missing from my previous relationships—sitting down like two rational adults and discussing exactly what we did and didn't want from each other. Beyond discussing wants and needs, we would respect each other's limitations—emotional and physical. There would be no guessing games on whether or not something was ok. _Open communication_ seemed like such a refreshing idea. _I could do this._

"So what, does this make you my 'Dom?'" It sounded so weird to say it aloud, and my voice reflected that. I didn't want to express any distaste but it was hard for me not to keep the inflection out.

"Is that what you want me to be?" He looked at me thoughtfully and when I didn't answer he continued, "Why don't we just call ourselves Bella and Edward? I don't have to be your 'Dom' and you don't have to be my 'sub.' We can make this relationship whatever we need it to be to fit the wants and needs of each other."

I appreciated how gentle his manner seemed through all of this. He wasn't telling me what I wanted to hear, he was telling me he would ease me into this… accommodate my apprehensions. He would _wait_ for me to be comfortable. How _long _would he wait, though?

"But what about what you said earlier—about me bottom topping… or however you worded it? You seemed put off by my outburst."

"I wasn't put off, Bella. I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. Caught off guard, maybe, but not put off. I guess I wasn't expecting you to utter the word 'master' quite so early in our relationship." He gave me a crooked smiling to let me know he understood—he was with me. He would make this easy for me. "I want to date you Bella, I want to spend time getting to know _you_, and not just what turns you on. I think I am at least getting a handle on the latter." _Again with the teasing!_ _I think I could love this man._

"Edward, you're understanding all of my reservations, and I really appreciate that. I _do_ want this—all of it. I want to submit to you and know you and care for you. I don't know how this type of thing works, though, I've never done it before." I bit my lip as I spoke the last part. I wasn't sure how to navigate from here, but I knew he would guide me.

"Let's start with the sexual aspect," he offered. I had to smile at that, the sexual aspect was definitely something I would love to spend hours discussing.

"Write down a list of things you want to try, things you have thought of but maybe have reservations about… but would consider… and things you know you don't like, or aren't interested in. I'll write a list, too, and we can compare and contrast. Be honest, it doesn't work if you say you are willing to try something that doesn't sit well with you. There is no right or wrong here, just a meshing of ideas. We can focus on our mutual likes and dislikes and work on things that we disagree on." He stood up and walked to a drawer under the countertop. He opened it and pulled out some pens and paper. He walked back over to me and smiled as he handed me mine, and sat back down next to me.

"No peeking," I said smirking at him.

"I wouldn't dream of it. You either, I don't want you stealing all of my ideas," he teased back.

I looked down at the paper and tapped my pen for a minute while I thought. I didn't know all the facets that went into Domination and submission, or even everything that was under BDSM as a whole. There was so little I had even experimented with before sexually, so I didn't know where to start.

I wrote at the top of the paper 'Bella's Fantasy List' and underlined it.

Likes

-being tied up

-being taken from behind

-rough sex

-giving head

-blindfolding

-hair pulling

I looked at my list and thought about it, Edward hadn't had me go down on him yet. I was kind of surprised by that, not only because it was something I enjoyed, but also because it seems like some would think the position in itself is an act of submission. I didn't necessarily look at it like that. I saw it as being in charge of someone else's pleasure. _Hmm might need to talk to him about that one_.

Want to try

-ice

-leather cuffs

-spanking

-a whip…_maybe, but be gentle!_

-roleplaying

I had never tried ice, but I loved the scene in _9 ½ weeks_ with it. It looked so hot and I knew it was something I wanted to try. Anything probably would have been sexy in that movie with a young Mickey Rourke in it. Pre-drugs Mickey looked so fuckable and so much like Logan Echolls.

Nervous about but willing to consider

-a gag—_the idea of not being able to say stop makes me queasy_

-anal sex—_huge maybe_

Dislikes

-name-calling

-any scene that involves having me do something against my will

I looked at my list and decided it was good enough for right now. I put my pen down and noticed Edward had already stopped writing. He asked me to read my list to him and I did, adding my written commentary to the items. He looked at my paper and laughed at the title. He also told me he thought _9 ½ weeks_ was a very sexy film and that we would have to watch it together sometime. He mentioned another movie he said I'd enjoy, called _Secretary_. I'd heard of it and I was always up for a nice dose of James Spader.

"What about your list, Edward?"

He showed me his and I read through it. We had a lot of the same thoughts and ideas, which was nice, but he added a few things to the list: harnesses, voyeurism, exhibitionism, corsets, leather, pvc… hmm. I'd have to think about these items.

"What do you think Bella?" He asked me when we were done poring over both lists. He put his paper down on the table and I looked at it. He had labeled it 'D/s' and I thought about how funny it was that he made the 's' lowercase.

"Edward, why is there a lowercase s?" I asked curiously.

"It's just a notation of respect…" he trailed off. I frowned at first, then smirked at him while I picked up the pen and wrote over the lowercase s with a capital one.

"The submissive is equally important, right?" I asked, clarifying where we both stood.

"You're right," he agreed.

"Then I think I like your list now," I smiled at him and he returned my smile.

I looked at the clock and noticed it was nearly two in the afternoon.

"I have to get going, soon, Edward. I have some work to finish before I teach tomorrow, and I wanted to email my advisor as well."

He sighed and nodded. "I know, I have work to get done, too. Before you go, though, I need to know I'll see you again and _when_."

I thought about my schedule this week. It was pretty hectic but I knew I wanted to see him again soon.

"I teach Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I have work that keeps me busy throughout the week, but what about Tuesday night? I could come here again?" What I really meant with my last question was: _are we going to do _this _again soon?_

He grinned at me. "Tuesday it is. Let me grab my phone," he walked over to the counter where his phone was plugged into the wall, charging. "Program your number into it so we can coordinate times." He handed me his phone and I typed in my number. I dialed my phone so I would have his number, too.

"Ok, let me get dressed." I walked back towards his bedroom and groaned at the thought that I would have to get redressed in yesterday's clothes. _Rose and Alice were going to have a field day with this. _I finished getting dressed and joined him in the kitchen again. I was starting to feel awkward. How do you say goodbye to someone who you've spent the last twelve hours living out fantasies with? That same someone who tied you to his bed and fucked you raw?

"Well, I'll see you Tuesday, then," I said, deciding that I would say goodbye like he was anyone else. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him, moving his lips to mine. They were rough and urgent, leading the pace. I kissed him back with equal force and put my arms around him trying to close any remaining space. His tongue parted my lips and brushed along mine in a forceful manner. Demanding. Dominating. _Oh, I was his alright._

Our harried kiss continued until I pulled away, needing some air. I looked up at him, my breath coming out in gasps. He looked smug. I gave him a small smile and waved again before grabbing the handle for the door. I felt a swift smack on my ass and turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"It was on your list."

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**A/N:** Someone asked about EPOV, and my response is maybe, but for now we will get his viewpoints via Bella.

Link for the ice scene in _9 ½ weeks_ in profile. Logan Echolls was a character in _Veronica Mars_ played by the actor Jason Dohring.

James Spader is hot as fuck, except with a mullet.

And if you read the teaser on the board and think I tricked you, welllllll I never said it was in a scene (even if that's what topping from the bottom typically is in reference to) or that this was going to be a strict D/s relationship. Every relationship is negotiated to fit the wants and needs of its participants...and he just wanted to give her an idea of where he was coming from.

SO! **Review**, if it pleases you :)


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Yes, sex lists are pretty hot. I don't know how common they are outside of BDSM, but beyond their hotness they serve a great purpose of defining boundaries. Personally I think dating websites should include them as an optional segment. ('He likes walks on the beach, but his hard limits leave something to be desired!')

Many thanks to my beta **EverIntruiged**! She's awesome and keeps my grammar and sentence structure in check! Go check her out on my profile under favorite authors!

I had that _Dirty Dancing_ scene in my mind where they sing "Love is Strange" to each other in my mind during this chapter. (link on profile!)

Come play with us on the **Twilighted** thread for this story! Link on profile.

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"_You are my master – in reality, are you so sure of that?"_

_-Jacques Lacan_

"_When I tell someone 'You are my master!' I oblige myself to treat him in a certain way, and, in the same move, I oblige him to treat me a certain way."_

_Slavoj Žižek_

**BPOV**

I wasn't looking forward to going back to my apartment after spending what felt like a week at Edward's. I had a feeling Alice and Rose would be sitting there waiting for me just like spiders. I wished I had had the foresight to bring a spare change of clothes so it didn't feel so 'walk of shame.' _Not that I had anything to feel shameful about_. Could something that brought such amazing orgasms really be considered bad? Yeah, I didn't think so, either.

When I finally got off the metro at Tenleytown, I walked the two blocks to our apartment. Each step closer to our building filled me with more dread. _It was too bad I didn't have shy roommates who would let me slink in unnoticed._

I walked up the stairs to our floor and tried to silently slide the key into the lock. I took a deep breath and opened the door. I walked inside and looked around and not seeing Alice or Rose immediately and thought maybe for once they were going to let me have some privacy. _Right._ Well, what would a little discussion with invasive roommates hurt?

"Hello, ladies. Glad you could make yourselves present for an inquisition," I smirked, as I tried to cut them off at the chase.

"Bell-uh," Alice drawled with a calculating expression. "You know we need details." Rose nodded in agreement and I sighed.

"You could at least ply me with some alcohol first," I suggested.

"Please, you talk about sex all day. You _research_ sex. Don't try to backtrack into pre-college clumsy, shy Isabella. Jenna Jameson might be shyer than you currently."

"I've actually read she is quite shy in real life…" I trailed off thoughtfully.

"Beside the point!" Alice whined. "Tell us about your hot sex with Edward… and don't even try to say it didn't happen. Was he good in bed?"

_Good in bed_ didn't begin to describe him. Should I have told them he tied me up or that I practically begged for more? Somehow I didn't think that's what they were asking.

"He was nice. I like him. I'm going to see him again." _Tomorrow, actually_.

"Nice?" Rose questioned. She didn't appear to believe my casual description.

"Ok, it's totally not your business, but _yes_ we had sex. _Yes_, it was the hottest sex I've ever had. _Yes,_ I'm totally going to fuck him as much as he'll let me." I snickered inwardly at my choice of words. I remembered telling him the opposite, that thing would happen if I _let him_ fuck me.

They both grinned like the Cheshire cat at me in response.

"Well, I'm tired. I'm going to get a shower and rest for a bit before getting some work in. We're done here, right ladies?" I grinned at their stunned expressions. I didn't give them a chance to answer before I walked into my bedroom and grabbed some sweats to change into. I stalked into the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

***

My morning class that I taught went by quickly. After lunch, a friend asked me to cover her class last minute as she had a family emergency. It was an intro feminist theory course, mostly with freshmen and a few upperclassmen fulfilling a humanities requirement. After the Spanish Inquisition yesterday, I had done some research on Lacan. I was curious to find out more about the man that sparked his ideas about his sexuality and what he wanted out of it. I leafed through some articles, mostly avoiding things I didn't and probably wouldn't understand without some serious studying, and came upon some interesting thoughts a Lacanian philosopher named Slavoj Žižek had. I had no lesson plans for this class, so I decided to bring up one of the ideas.

I waited until the class finished shuffling in before speaking, "Good afternoon, my name is Bella Swan. Professor Greer had an emergency and asked me to step in for her. Since this is an intro class she left the lecture up to me. I wanted to have a discussion on something I read yesterday and get your feedback on whether or not you agree."

I paused and looked around the room. So far I hadn't seen any begrudging faces, which was a relief. They were watching me with mild interest, presumably as to what I would want to discuss.

"So, I pose this question to you: does a sexual relation, in order to function, have to be screened through some fantasy? The idea is from something the philosopher Slavoj Žižek said. I'd like to discuss this informally, and as I don't know any of your names, please offer them before speaking."

A girl with wheat blond hair looked up at me with her hand raised slightly to alert my attention to her. I nodded for her to proceed, "Yes, Ms… ?"

"Mallory. I don't agree with that at all. Why do I have to have some fantasy in my mind just so I can have sex with someone? I mean, how often does anyone really plan to have sex? It's always just _happened_ for me."

"So you've never role-played, then? Because something like that takes planning," I countered. She seemed a bit flustered by my bluntness but it would do her well to learn quickly that personal always becomes political when dealing with feminism.

"I'm sorry to be so direct with my question, but I want you to really think about what I'm asking. Yes, I was referring to _you,_ but more in a broad sense. I'm not agreeing or disagreeing with you, Ms. Mallory. I just want to open the discussion a little more."

The sole boy in the class raised his hand. I nodded and encouraged him to speak.

"Eric Yorkie. I think everyone is chasing after some fantasy whether they want to acknowledge it or not. I think even the idea of people having 'types' proves that."

"And what if someone says they don't have a type?" I asked in turn.

"They're lying," he said simply.

Well that wasn't the answer I expected. "Ok….?" I said blankly, and waited for him to elaborate.

"Even if someone says they don't have a type, they are probably still having the same sex, just with different partners. They might tweak their ideas a bit to work with said partner's ideas, but they are still trying to live out their fantasies of how they want sex to be from the ideas they've conjured up." Huh.

"And if they change their mind from one partner to the next?" I asked curiously.

"Then they are still trying to figure out which fantasy fits."

"Thank you, Mr. Yorkie. Would anyone else care to add something?" I wanted to open the floor for more discussion and looked around the room.

"What do _you_ think, Ms. Swan?" It was the blond girl from before. I ignored her tone and responded to the question.

"I'm inclined to agree with both of you. People don't always employ a fantasy, but I think that there are definitely… tendencies that lie in our subconscious, even if we don't _want_ to acknowledge them. Perhaps as Mr. Yorkie suggested, we keep going until we've found our fit and fulfilled that fantasy."

***

Last night and this morning went painfully slow. I still wasn't sure what time Edward wanted me to stop by or if he wanted to come here first. I decided to send him a quick text to see what was up.

_What time tonight? My place or yours?_

I hit send and worried it sounded too suggestive. We both said we wanted to get to know each other but I didn't want to take two steps back just because we went about things in a different order. My cell beeped and I looked to see his response:

_Mine. Quick bite first? Meet me at 6 Soho in Dupont. We can walk to my place._

I typed back a quick 'ok' and looked at the clock. I still had two hours to go. I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate so I decided to run a bath.

I stepped into the warm water and thought about the discussion from class yesterday. I was astounded by the thought processes of some of the students—especially for an intro class. I wondered if I was having the same sex, just different people, as the student in class had suggested. Well, sex with Edward was _different_. After our list-making yesterday, I had no doubt that our relationship would be different as well.

Would we have sex tonight?_ God, I hope so._

I got out of the bath and draped a towel around myself before I walked back to my bedroom. I looked over on my dresser to see I had another text message.

_Wear a skirt._

Just reading that simple text sent heat throughout my body. I dressed casually in a simple denim skirt and t-shirt. Since I knew we would be walking a bit to get to his place from Dupont Circle, I threw on some comfortable sneakers.

Once I was ready, I grabbed my bag and walked back to the metro. Dupont was only a few stops away. I looked at my cell and noticed I was almost a half-hour early so I stopped at a book store along the way. I glanced around me and walked to the 'sexuality' section. I looked up on the shelf and saw a book called _A Defense of Masochism_ by an author I wasn't familiar with, Anita Phillips. I leafed through the book quickly and was struck by one of the passages:

_It is not immodest or pretentious to develop and individual and intuitive place in the world, it is a kind of craft of tangential self-knowledge, it's about learning to recognize yourself in unexpected places._

I was still learning to accept myself in these unexpected places life had taken me, but it wasn't a bad thing. It was just my road to self-discovery. I closed the book and brought it with me to the register, trying to not to show any embarrassment at my book choice. The cashier didn't comment and I quickly walked out of the store to go meet Edward.

When I got to the café, he was already waiting at a table for me. He looked even better than I remembered. He stood up when I got to the table and pulled me into his arms for a hug. I could feel his warm breath on me as he whispered in my ear.

"It's good to see you again."

I pulled back and smiled at him. "Likewise."

We stood there for a minute and he offered to get our food and drinks. I asked for a Portobello sandwich and Chai tea. After a few minutes, he brought our coffee and sandwiches back to the table. Sitting together having coffee felt like we were on a first date, so I decided to break the ice.

"We talked about Žižek in one of my classes today."

"Really? What brought that on?" He asked, surprised.

"I read something he wrote over the weekend and used it as a discussion topic."

"What did you think of Žižek?"

"Well, I was curious to learn more about Lacan after hearing you speak so vividly about his philosophies, and Žižek's works came up as well… his writing was a lot easier to read," I laughed and he smiled at me.

"It was interesting reading. Not sure I agreed with everything I read, what I understood at least, but I wanted to find out more about what makes you tick."

"I thought you already discovered what makes me tick this weekend?" He said with a smirk as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Nah, this weekend helped a lot, but we really just scratched the surface. You're the psychology expert, though. Wouldn't I really have to see these proofs in action before making a conclusion?"

He put his coffee down and leaned in close to me, "we don't have to wait to get to my place to start testing theories."

He placed his hand on my thigh, and let it linger much longer than appropriate in public, but I didn't remove it. He watched me from under his lashes and my flushed face brought a smile to his. His body was still pretty close to mine and he spoke again, this time his voice sounding raw with lust, "I'd like you to remove your bra and underwear."

I looked at him incredulously. _"Now?!"_

He nodded in response and I started to get up from the table so I could remove my garments in the bathroom. He grabbed my wrist to stop me from leaving.

"Here," he commanded.

I was dumbstruck. I looked around the café and saw a dozen or so people milling about, not paying attention, but I still felt embarrassed. _Did he really expect me to do this_? I looked back at him and the expression on his face answered my question. I thought about how I would go about this. It wouldn't be impossible—just awkward. _Risky._

The underwear would be easier so I started with that first. I discreetly lifted my butt off the seat and sat my hand beneath my skirt before lowering back down. I tugged a bit and shimmied until I was able to pull my underwear just to the edge of my skirt. I moved my hand from underneath me and placed both of them at my sides. I quickly looked around me again and when I felt secure that no one was watching me—beside Edward—I hurriedly pulled my underwear all the way down to my ankles. I made like I dropped something and grabbed the garment quickly and stuffed it in my purse. I looked back at Edward to see his eyes glazed. The bra I knew would be trickier but at least this was something I had done before without removing my shirt. I discreetly moved my hands to the back band of my bra and unhooked it while still keeping my hands above my shirt. I moved my hand under the sleeve and dragged one strap while simultaneously sliding my arm up to move the strap off of it, then proceeded to do the same to the other side. I reached up underneath my shirt, without moving it up, and pulled my bra down to my lap. I discarded it to my purse as well. My face was beet red by the time I was finished, but I had to admit I was turned on thinking about what just happened—I had removed my undergarments in the same room with a crowd of people who were none the wiser. I couldn't help but be aroused.

I peeked at Edward to see him looking even hungrier, his eyes practically black. I grinned at what I did to him with that display and went back to eating. He regained his composure and we both finished our meals. It was quiet but we both felt the charge in the air.

"Ready to leave?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Yes," I responded a little breathlessly. _Ready didn't begin to cover it._

_

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_**A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Hate mail? REVIEW please! **I know it's evilness cutting it off there, but sometimes a little restraint can be sexy. They'll have fun next chapter.

It's way easier to read Žižek on Lacan than reading Lacan first! I chose the two quotes from the beginning because I thought it was interesting contrasting what Lacan said, in comparison to what someone who _studies_ Lacan said. My point being? There is _always_ room for interpretation.

Germaine Greer is a writer, scholar and feminist among other things. (note I don't always agree with the feminists/or philosophers I put in this story)

I've brought up the book mentioned in this chapter before. It's a really good read and, as the book jacket says, _"challenges many tenets of feminism and psychoanalysis."_

I have no idea what (porn actress) Jenna Jameson is like in real life.

The "waiting just like spiders" comment was taken from something Mammy said in _Gone with the Wind_. (oh fiddle-dee-dee, I am a closeted _GWTW_ fan)

Tenleytown is a very residential area of Northwest DC where American University is. It's practically Bethesda. (yet lacks Tastee Diner) Dupont Circle is a neighborhood also in NWDC, not far from Edward's place in Foggy Bottom.

Also I can't help but keep having Lauren show up with disdain in my stories. I think ever since reading _Learning to Say No_, by ShilohPR, where Edward calls her "that Mallory creature," I've had an even more skewed view of her. Link to story under favorites in profile.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Many thanks to my awesome beta **EverIntruiged**! Link to her on my profile under favorite authors!

Song for this chapter is "Spin the Bottle" by the Juliana Hatfield Three. (I feel so old putting this song here, but it was on a playlist I made) Link in profile.

Come say hi on the **Twilighted** thread for this story! Link in profile :)

**Warning:** mildly 'kinky' citrus ahead, but if you've been reading this story you're probably aware of that!

* * *

"_Why is it, though, that feminists are still expected to have to 'reconcile' sex and politics? Why are our sexual pleasures still measured against our political affiliations, as if one might undermine or corrupt the other? What baggage is feminism still carrying when it comes to mixing the personal with the political?"_

_Kath Albury, from __Yes Means Yes: Getting Explicit About Heterosex_

**BPOV**

Edward grabbed my hand and led me out of the café. Our pace wasn't hurried, but it still felt as if we were both in a rush to get back to his place. I might have felt more in a rush than he did because I worried that if we didn't get back fast enough, he might have been encouraged to take action along the way. The idea of that happening was both exciting and alarming. _Could_ I be intimate with him in a public place? I wasn't sure if I equipped to answer that right now, as I had just done a modified version of a strip tease in public.

We were slowly making our way down 22nd Street and the quiet was getting to me. Was he _trying_ to kill me with anticipation?

"Nice weather, huh?" _That was how he decided to break the ice? _

I nodded.

"Not too cold for you?"

"What…? No...?" I gave him an odd look. He took our hands that were still intertwined and brushed his pointer finger along one of my already-hard nipples. I shivered in response, halting slightly.

"No, n-not cold…" I stuttered out.

He smirked at me as we continued walking. Our pace seemed to pick up the closer we got to his apartment and I could feel my nipples chafing against the fabric of my shirt. The walk from Dupont to Foggy Bottom wasn't absurd--it was barely a mile. I was used to walking a lot around DC. What I_ wasn't_ used to was walking so far without a bra.

It was starting to get more uncomfortable the further we went. Frankly, it was starting to fucking hurt—but I _liked_ it. I tried to process that for a moment._ I liked that?_ I didn't think it wasn't the pain I liked, but the constant reminder of how my nipples came to be chafed. This whole situation was making me question everything I thought about pleasure.

He looked over at me and noticed the slight grimace on my face.

"Everything ok?" He asked gently.

"Yeah…just thinking," I responded casually.

"About…?" He prodded further.

I kept staring at the ground. We were about to go to his place to have sex and I wasn't sure if this was really the time to have a 'heart-to-heart.' So many things were running through my mind. I've had boyfriends and I've had one-night stands… but this? It didn't feel like either of those. The emotions I was feeling were so strong. Not love, definitely not that.

"I was just thinking about how overwhelming this all feels. I mean, I know we talked about things… and I guess we are 'dating' now," I paused to look at him to see his expression at my use of the word dating. I couldn't detect anything from him other than the fact that he was listening intently so I continued what I wanted to say. "This feels so different than other relationships I've been in. More _intense_."

"Intense is a good thing, isn't it? If you're asking if it's different for me too, then yes. I mean, it's hard for me to comment on how things are because we haven't even known each other a week… are you uncomfortable with what we've been doing?" He had genuine concern in his eyes and his demeanor immediately put me at ease.

"No, it's been fine! I have to say it definitely puts a new spin on that saying 'I fuck on the first date.'" We both laughed at that. "I'm certainly glad I met you through Alice and Rose… I don't think I could have trusted someone I _just met_ like I did with you if we didn't have mutual friends. Emmett and Jasper may be kind of doofy, but they are decent guys… so…" I lamely trailed off. I looked up at the street sign and saw we were at L Street. He lived near I Street, so we only had two blocks left.

"I'm glad you were able to trust me like you did… if it was anyone else but me I might have chided you for that, but since I reaped the benefits from your… um…sense of intuition… I guess we'll just have to let that slide." He winked at me and I was almost positive there were other words he would have chosen instead of 'sense of intuition' had I not given him a look.

"Yeah, you definitely reaped the benefits of me being too aroused to wonder if I should've perhaps waited 'til the second date to let you tie me up!" He chuckled and I smiled to myself as I had flashbacks of this weekend.

"Does that mean this is our second date? Or do we count Saturday and Sunday as two separate dates?" I noticed he had stopped walking and I looked around to see we were in front of his building.

"Hmmm… are you hoping for the third date rule? Let me tell you right now," I reached up on my tip-toes and leaned in close to whisper in his ear, "I fuck on the first _and_ third date." I let my tongue run over his earlobe after I finished speaking. I stepped back to admire my handiwork and grinned widely at his glazed expression.

When he recovered his composure, he opened the door to the building for me and I walked in. We walked silently to the elevator and he pressed the up button. We walked in and the doors closed, leaving us alone with the immeasurable sexual tension that had been building up since the café.

"Are you going to tell me more about your fetishes tonight?" He quirked at me, I imagined to lighten any anxieties he thought I was feeling.

"I don't really think I have any… I mean you saw the things I said I liked; I don't really think they count as _fetishes_." While not all of my activities would be seen as 'vanilla,' I thought all things considered I was pretty 'normal.' Fetish sounded so… well… I didn't even know how to continue that thought. We got to his penthouse and he opened the door for me and locked it behind us before he responded.

"You know, I read in a study that psychologists claim they don't see many female fetishists, yet I constantly hear or see women talking about how they prefer 'tall, dark, and handsome,' or muscular men… or perhaps say 'I only date men who are…' These women are considered 'picky,' yet on the opposite end of the spectrum if a man goes after a certain type of person, maybe a certain way of dress, it's considered a fetish. I have no problem with the idea of fetishes or having them, do _you?_"

His tone was a little harsh and I wondered if I was being narrow in my ideas and thoughts on sexuality. I put my hand on his cheek to get his attention.

"Edward, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to offend you. I seem to have permanent foot-in-mouth syndrome whenever I'm around you. I guess I didn't think of it that way, you're right." I looked at him and his expression softened. "Maybe one person's qualifier is another person's fetish?" I offered to lighten the mood. He smiled and his previous good mood returned.

"Maybe, but I think more likely it's as Patrick Califia pointed out—most mainstream

fetishes are so easily available that we don't acknowledge them _as _fetishes anymore."

It made sense when he said it like that. I had thought blindfolding or handcuffing might have been considered a bit 'kinky' but it still seemed pretty tame to me. I never thought of them as _deviant_, or considered that they were part of BDSM.

"You're absolutely right. This is all new to me, even the way of thinking about these things. I guess I've just spent so much time trying to reconcile my fantasies with my politics that I didn't think in terms of spectrum of everything… and maybe it's all connected…"

He stopped me with his finger on my lips, "It's ok, Bella. I get it. I think _is_ all connected, and I hope I can help you make sense of what that means to you."

"You are. I am learning so much from you... and not just the sexploration stuff, but other things, too. By the way, I have to admit I'm pretty impressed you know who Patrick Califia is."

"An S&M activist and advocate? _Of course_ I know who he is!" At this point, I should have just asked if there was any subject he _didn't_ know about. Our earlier discussion had gotten so heated that we were still standing in his apartment next to the door.

"C'mon, I think we could both use a glass of wine." We removed our shoes and he led the way to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of red and looked at me, "This ok?"

"Red's fine."

I waited as he poured both our glasses.

"A toast?" He asked as he handed me my glass. I nodded and waited for him to make the toast.

"To déjà vu, and a promising future." I gave him a smile, but flushed at his sentiment. This was a bit of déjà vu, us standing in the kitchen in anticipation what awaited us.

We clinked our glasses together and took a sip of the wine. It was delicious and just what I needed to calm my nerves a bit. I didn't know what he had planned for tonight, and I remembered something I wanted to ask him. I took another drink of my wine and set the glass down momentarily to speak.

"Edward, I wanted to ask you this over the weekend, but I forgot… I had written down 'giving head' as something I liked, and I was curious why you didn't ask me to go down on you. I mean, isn't that generally seen an act of submission? I would have thought that would be something you wanted me to do."

I felt kind of stupid asking this, but I was beginning to feel more and more that I could ask him anything… and he would answer as best he could, without judgment. I looked at him and he held my gaze. He looked to be searching for something I wasn't sure he'd find. I didn't have all the answers like he did.

"I don't think oral sex in itself is an act of submission. It's an act of giving pleasure. It _can_ it be an act of submission, but to whom? Is the giver in control because they are the key to the receiver's release? If you are on your knees while going down on me does that put me in the position of power? If both partners participate enthusiastically does that make it a shared dominance? There are so many things to think about that change the dynamics of the situation. For me, it's all depends on the context. You?" He sounded genuinely curious of my response.

"I'm not sure. I guess I agree with you about the context. I know some of my friends don't like performing oral sex because of stigmas associated with it… I personally enjoy giving _and_ receiving." I grinned sheepishly at the admission. I took another sip of wine and decided I had had enough for the evening.

"Do you mind if I go freshen up a bit?" I asked quietly.

"Sure, you remember where the bathroom is, right?"

I nodded and placed my glass back on the counter. I grabbed my purse and walked to the bathroom, secretly pleased with myself. I didn't really need to 'freshen up.' I supposed maybe the idea of lipstick marks on his dick might turn him on, but that would have to wait for another date.

Tonight's idea was one that I got from a friend who lamented about the best oral she thought she had ever received, only to later find out that the reason it felt so good wasn't because of her boyfriend's 'skills'— it was the Kleenex she had used in place of toilet paper before her boyfriend went down on her—_it was mentholated._

After reading about it online, I found out that menthol can heighten the nerves on the genitals. I didn't want to wipe my mouth out with mentholated Kleenex, so I used a cough drop instead. I sucked on the cough drop for a few minutes and spit the remnant in the waste basket.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself so I wouldn't appear overexcited. I didn't want to let on to anything. I walked back over to where he stood and smiled sweetly. I ran my fingertips up his arm and spoke in a husky voice, "Let's go to your bedroom."

I walked towards his bedroom with him hot on my tail. I laughed and picked up my pace to nearly a run. He caught up to me easily when we were in his bedroom and turned me around to face him. He tried to pull me to his lips but I stopped him, not wanting him to taste the menthol. I wanted it to be a surprise.

"Ah ah ah," I chided, "not yet. Will you sit down in the chair for me?" I asked calmly.

He looked at me questioningly but did as I requested. I kneeled down in front of him, something I'd _never_ done for a man before, and undid the button on his pants. I patted his hips a bit to encourage him to lift up so I could remove his pants and boxers completely. I moved them down his legs and he lifted his feet for me to toss them aside. I took his socks off at that moment, too, because half-naked and socks just felt funny.

I moved my hands up his legs slowly and dragged my nails, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to elicit a moan from him. I dug a little deeper as I got closer to his cock. I looked up at him and smiled. I was doing this. I was offering him something. I was giving him more of myself, and giving away my reservations. I wasn't fighting him for dominance—we were _sharing_ it.

His eyes were hooded and he probably had no idea of my internal monologue, but he knew what I was giving to him and returned my smile. _He understood._

I gave a tentative stroke to his dick and followed my hand with my tongue to make sure he was ok with the sensation. I wanted to surprise him, and perhaps shock him a bit, but I didn't want it to be unwelcome. I looked up at him to gauge his reaction and saw his eyes widen in surprise, but he nodded for me to continue.

I flattened my tongue and continued licking in long, languid strokes. When I got to the tip I swirled my tongue around a bit to feel him. I moaned at the feeling and earned one in response from the vibration of my mouth against him. I took him completely in my mouth. His dick was huge, and I took as much of it as I could in my mouth and tried to adjust my positioning to accommodate more of him.

I held still for a moment, relishing the feeling of him inside my mouth. I moved up and down his shaft humming in pleasure. His hands moved to my hair and he gripped tightly, moving with me and setting a pace. I let him guide my mouth, licking and sucking as I moved, keeping up with the tempo he had set. I lightly grazed my teeth upon him and felt a sharp tug at my hair. _He was close._ I kept sucking, making my motions quicker and harder as he released inside of me. His hot cum spurted to the back of my throat and I continued to suck until every last drop was in me. His hand guided me off of him softly and he pulled my face to his for an intense kiss. We finally pulled apart and he sat there, silent for a few moments before speaking.

"Bella… that was… what _was_ that?" He asked breathily, still out of sorts from his orgasm.

I smirked at him, "a cough drop." He looked at me, confused. "It's the menthol. I thought you might like it."

His expression changed from confusion to awe. "I loved it. You were simply amazing. Tell me, though," he paused leaning down to plant a kiss on my lips, "do you have another?"

* * *

**A/N:** Would you have hurt me if there wasn't some form of release after the build up last chapter? I know, I know 'where is TEH SEX!?"

The quote from the beginning is taken from the book Yes Means Yes: Getting Explicit About Heterosex by Kath Albury. The title isn't very inclusive, but it borrows from a lot of feminist and queer theory. The bit where Edward asks Bella about her fetishes was inspired by a chapter in this book titled "Fun with Fetishes and Freud." (btw Freud, I don't agree that fetishes have _anything_ to do with the fear of being castrated)

It's an interesting book to check out. I am reading it on Netlibrary. I thoroughly recommend asking your local library if they are part of netlibrary because there are TONS of great ebooks available there, and it's free if your library is a member!

I, like Bella, suffer from foot-in-mouth syndrome quite frequently. It's a very debilitating ailment, so watch you don't get infected with it too.

**Patrick Califia** is a writer and activist.

The menthol Kleenex thing is a true story, if you're wondering. Note: I did NOT say or use _VapoRub. _I don't recommend doing such, either!

**So review + get a teaser for next chap!** **PS lurkerz, say hi!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Where is Erin, you ask? Well I went out-of-town (went to a cabin with a bunch of friends and acted like we were 21 instead of 30-something. No menz allowed on this trip… except the creepy golfers who were staying at the cabin next to ours)…and I *did* finish this chapter before leaving, but my awesometastic beta **EverIntruiged** said the chapter was "eh" and she was right, so I waited until I got home and reworked it.

If there are any mistakes, they're mine, as I added a bit after this was edited.

This chapter is for **visionary gleam** who kindly reminded me that an update was due. Here is your post-defending-thesis treat, bb.

Don't own anything except the plot and perhaps a corset (or five).

* * *

"_Fashion, including cosmetics, _is_ women's pornography, gratifying women's highly developed sense of touch and their pleasure in their own bodies."_

_David Kunzle, as paraphrased in __Adorned in Dreams_

"_Everything from a fetishist's dream is on the fashion runways."_

_Vivienne Westwood_

**BPOV**

He leaned back in the chair after kissing me and closed his eyes. A lazy smile graced his face.

I felt powerful and sexy after making him come. Seeing him release was different than watching him during sex. Not just because I was so concentrated on my _own_ pleasure that I wasn't as observant of his, but it was a different kind of letting go.

He exhaled and opened his eyes again to look into my eyes.

"Let me return the favor, love."

I smiled at him before responding, "While I would love that, I think I'd rather feel you inside me."

His answering laugh confused me. Wouldn't he rather have sex than go down on me?

"I'm flattered that you've mistaken me for a teenager. My 'return' time isn't quite as quick as that." _Oh, that._

I stayed where I was, but rubbed my hands up and down his thighs. "I want to explore your body some more. Will you let me?" I smirked at his expression which read as _'you really have to ask?'_

I was glad for the chance to study his figure. Having been tied up or blindfolded, I really didn't get the chance to look at him… to appreciate him. I knew he was good looking, but looking at him under a more watchful gaze reminded he was more than that. He was beautiful.

I carefully trailed my hands up his body, taking in every inch of him. He was thin and lithe. His skin felt almost softer than mine. _Pliable—just like the way he was made to move with me_.

He watched me as I kissed along his body to inspect different parts. He seemed to take delight my scrutiny, as I savored the feeling of him under my hands and lips.

I moved up and straddled his lap so I could gain closer access to his chest and neck. I continued to kiss as I went along, occasionally gracing his skin with my teeth in soft bites.

I sucked on the side of his neck, lapping at him with my tongue. His skin tasted incredible—a more concentrated version of him. I licked alongside his jaw to his ear, pulling his lobe in my mouth and sucking harder, all the while grinding my body on his. _Bite._

"Maybe you aren't as elderly as you seem to think," I whispered in his ear, alluding to his rapidly hardening cock. I could feel he was almost ready again.

"It seems you bring that out in me, Bella. The need to feel you around me… to hear you screaming my name as you come is staggering."

I groaned at that and rubbed him a little harder. He grabbed my hips to still my motions.

"You don't want me to lick you? To make you come on my tongue?"

"No, I want you to fuck me. _Please, fuck me_," I begged, trying to resume the earlier motions of grinding against him.

"Can you grab the condom out of my pant's pocket?" He asked in a strained voice.

I slid down his body, making sure he felt everything from my arousal to my peaked nipples and grabbed his pants. I fished in the pocket for a condom and pulled it out and discarded the wrapper.

With a firm grip, I gave a light stroke to his dick and rolled the condom on him. I kneeled one leg down, then the other, and placed my heat directly above him.

He didn't seem to like the teasing pace, so he grabbed my hips again and pulled me down on him.

"Couldn't wait," he offered. He was completely seated in me and stilled his motions to grab the hem of my shirt. He lifted it off of my body and I went to unbutton my skirt, thinking once unzipped, I could also lift it over my head.

He stopped my hands. "Leave the skirt; I like the roughness of the denim."

He continued to hold onto me as I set the pace, moving up and down his dick. Every time I came down on him he gave an extra thrust, pushing himself further into me.

I rocked my body against his with each movement, trying to get more friction against my clit. As good as this felt, I wanted to come. I wanted to come now, and I wanted him to come with me.

I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself so I could increase the pace.

"I _need_ to come. Can't you feel how good this feels?" I was slightly out of breath, but he seemed to understand.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to his body. I could feel every droplet of sweat. He needed to come, too.

"Harder, Edward. I want you to fuck me_ harder_," I grunted into his ear spurring him on to move even more forcefully than before. I buried my head in his neck and listened to his strangled moans.

My clit rubbed up against him as he continued to move me up and down his shaft.

"Unnngh…I'm coming," I breathed out. My orgasm came fast and hard as he continued to thrust.

His arms gripped me even tighter than before. He held on so hard it almost hurt as I heard him groan in release.

When he was finished, his grip on me loosened and I leaned up against him. We were both breathing hard as we came down from our highs.

"God, I want to just stay like this forever," I said wistfully.

"No one's making you go anywhere."

"I can't stay; I didn't bring a change of clothes," I responded, saddened at the thought.

"Actually, I have something to help with that." He lifted me up off of him and walked over to a closet and grabbed a bag out of there.

"What's this?" I asked curiously.

"A gift. C'mon, open it!" He responded gleefully.

I opened the bag and removed the tissue paper. Inside I found a scrap of black leather, soft as butter. It was a corset. I looked up from the corset to his face.

"I thought you could wear it tomorrow when I'm not around. Just a little something to remind you of me."

I fingered the lacing on the back of the corset and imagined him pulling the laces tight. I was so turned on thinking about it, and he hadn't even done anything at all. I didn't want to say that, so I decided to tease him instead.

"So did this gift come with a free gift with purchase whip, or do I buy that separately?"

"Very funny. Like you couldn't have guessed that I already own a whip." His eyes twinkled when he spoke, and though I knew he was teasing me back, I desperately wanted to believe that he was telling the truth.

"Really, though. I should go home. I've got some work to do and I think if I stay here any longer, I'll become insulated into this sex bubble."

"Sex bubble?" He quirked.

"Den, bubble, whatever—whatever it is that makes me forget the outside world when I'm here."

"Is it so bad to forget everything else when you are with me?" I couldn't tell for sure from the sound of his voice, but his eyes seemed… hurt? I'd only known this man for _four days_. It was too soon for either of us to be so invested in this relationship.

"I'm not saying that, I just… remember the intense, overwhelming feeling I talked about earlier?" He nodded. "Still applies. I can't just drop everything for you, as much as I'd like to."

"I'm not asking you to do that. We have school and work, but that doesn't mean we can't shift our priorities a little to include each other."

I softened at that. "Ok, I'll pencil you in." He smiled in return and pulled me in for a hug.

"I'll sic Alice on you if you don't." I laughed at the prospect. It was definitely a valid threat to sic Alice on anyone.

"Now come here so I can put my gift to good use." He beckoned.

"I need to go home and shower. I smell like a brothel." I leaned my nose down to my shoulder and inhaled for emphasis.

"So shower here, I want to see you in it before you leave."

I rolled my eyes and gave in. _Resistance was futile._

I showered quickly and wondered how the corset was going to feel on my body. I'd never worn one. He seemed very excited by the idea of seeing me in it. It was sexy to be sure, but it felt kind of archaic the more I thought about it. Who even wore corsets anymore?

If I didn't see him tomorrow night, would I have to ask Alice or Rose to help me remove it? What would they say when they saw Bella Swan, feminist, _wearing a corset?_ I knew I shouldn't have cared what they thought, but I couldn't help it.

I told myself it didn't matter what I wore—that it didn't change anything about me as a person, but I wasn't sure I really believed it. _Ugh._ It aggravated me that this was something I even felt I had to think about.

I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me, securing it tightly as I made my way back to the bedroom.

"C'mere, Bella." He said as I walked towards him.

I stopped just before him.

"Take your towel off, please." The commanding tone he took on made me want to take him right there.

I removed the towel and held it up with a questioning look.

"Just put it on the chair over there."

I did as he asked and walked back to him. I didn't notice it at first, but he had the corset in his hands. He loosened the laces and held it out for me to step into. He tugged it up my body as I tried to wiggle my hips for it to glide on me easier. He moved it up my body it until it covered my breasts to the top of my hips.

"Let your body surrender itself to the corset," he said softly.

His hands moved to the bottom of the corset and slowly pulled each rung of lacing tighter. I jerked slightly when he first pulled the laces. When he reached the top, he tugged harder, and tied the laces together. He pushed my hair aside and leaned in close to my ear, "keep this on while you sleep and all day tomorrow. I want you to think of me each time you move and feel the boning press against you. Think of my hands on your body… think of how it will feel to have me _untie_ you."

I was breathing heavy by the time he was done speaking, cursing myself that I had to leave. He spun me around and cupped my face with his hands. He brushed a sweet, tender kiss on my lips before he pulled back.

I grabbed my clothes and finished dressing. I looked up to see him watching me carefully. I gave him a smile.

"Do you want me to walk you to the Metro?" He asked.

"It's only a few blocks, I think I'll manage. Besides, you didn't lace me so tight I can't breathe!"

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

"I have to meet with my advisor in the morning, but I'm free after that. Do you work tomorrow?"

"Just 'til 4:00. Why don't we see if the gang can all get together for dinner?"

"What, you mean like a real date?" I asked, in mock horror putting a hand over my mouth dramatically.

"You mean today's wasn't real? I bought you a meal, we had conversation and we came back to my place. It sounds pretty standard in my book."

"Yes, well, today's _date_ was quite nice, but I'd rather not repeat the exhibitionist part in front of our friends." He smirked at me.

"I thought you rather enjoyed that part. You were quite _enthusiastic_ when we got back."

"Not interested in PDA in front of friends, thank you much. Speaking of, I think we need to talk about protocols for the next time you are feeling frisky in public. I won't deny that it was arousing undressing under the blind eyes of a roomful of people, but I'm not sure I would have been ok if you had thrown me on the table and fucked me in front of the same room of strangers." _Though it was a fun idea…_

His eyes darted to my parted lips. "The look on your face right now suggests you would enjoy that very much, actually," he paused, taking in my wide-eyed expression, "but don't worry, we won't do that… yet."

I snorted at him. We wouldn't be doing anything of the sort in front of our friends _ever_.

"Alright, Edward. I should go." I leaned up to him and gave him a quick kiss.

"Text me when you get home?"

"Yes, _dad_," I offered, in a slightly annoyed tone.

"I'm not really into age play…" he started, before he caught the look I gave him.

"I really need to go," I said, more insistently this time.

"Ok, ok," he said with a sigh.

I followed him as he walked through the hall and out the door to stand in front of the elevator. I stepped inside and the doors shut before I had a chance to even think of anything else I wanted to say.

***

I stepped off the escalator and walked down Wisconsin Ave to our apartment. It was Tuesday night and as far as I knew Alice and Rose would be home. I was excited to talk to them about getting together tomorrow night as a group.

Would we go out to dinner? Or a club like the night I met him? I debated those options and thought cooking dinner at home would be best. _Then I could ask him to undo the lacing._

I walked into the apartment and called out to see if anyone was home.

"In the kitchen," Alice yelled back.

I walked to the kitchen and found her bent over, perusing the fridge.

"Anything good?" I asked.

"No, it's Rose's week for groceries and she always buys crap. You wanna cook us some dinner?"

"I already ate, but I can make you a peanut butter sandwich if you want?" I responded, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Yeah, I'll pass. I think I might go to Whole Foods and see what they have on the salad bar."

"Don't feel too bad, I'm making us dinner tomorrow," I paused to see her looking at me curiously, "I was actually going to ask you and Rose about that… is she here now?"

"No, she had to work late."

"Oh, ok… well I guess I can text her. I wanted to see if you guys wanted to get together tomorrow for dinner. I thought I could make some lasagna and have everyone over."

"Everyone being…?" She asked in a too innocent voice. She was digging.

"You and Jazz, Em and Rose… and Edward," I finished, hoping she wouldn't ask me any more about the subject. The truth was, while I was dying to talk to someone about him, I wasn't sure what Alice would say. I didn't know if I could even tell her about our sexual… quirks.

She squealed in return and reached in for a big hug. I gasped at the strength she seemed to have despite her small stature and pulled back slightly.

"So this means you're excited?" I teased.

Her returning smile was blinding and I had my response. Just as her hands moved to let go of me, she stilled. She gripped my sides tighter before letting go and gave me a questioning look.

"Did you wear a _corset_ for your little date?" I could hear the smile in her voice.

"No…" _Should I tell her?_ "Edward got it for me." I couldn't help the blush that followed.

"Really? Isn't that a bit _kinky?"_

"Pot-kettle-black much? Ask me about kinky on a day when you aren't wearing six-inch platform sandals." I looked down at her choice of footwear pointedly. They were black patent leather with a row of straps over the foot and ankle.

"Hey! These are the latest fashion!"

I laughed at her defense. "Latest fashion? What are they, 'bondage chic?' An acceptable way to be a fetishist? Seriously, tell me the difference between me wearing a corset and you wearing those shoes."

"I'm not wearing these for _someone else." _

It was like a slap to the face. Every doubt I had about being involved with Edward was culminated in what she said. At what point did wanting to please someone else become wrong?

_He was helping me realize my fantasies as I was indulging his. _

"This is as much for me as it is for him," I said finally. Giving him pleasure gave _me_ pleasure.

"Anyhow, Alice, I have to get some work done. Can you text Rose the details for tomorrow? Let's say 6:30. Edward will tell the guys."

"Are you mad at me? I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you." She looked remorseful, and I knew I couldn't stay mad at her for long.

"No, I'm not mad… I admit to being a little annoyed, but that's only because I shouldn't have to justify my choices for you."

"You don't, Bella. I'm really sorry I said anything."

"It's alright. I have work to do, though. I have a meeting with my advisor in the morning and I need to prepare."

"Can I get a hug?" She asked sheepishly. I smiled warmly at her. All was restored between us.

"Of course! Just don't feel me up again."

* * *

**A/N:** So, I cut the lemon out. Then I added it back in, because dammit, I just spent the weekend with 14 women at a cabin in West Virginia…if it's crappy, just pretend it didn't happen.

Whole Foods, aka 'whole paycheck,' has this delicious salad bar with hot + cold items. My favorite is salad with grilled tofu and vinaigrette.

Books for this chapter: Fashion and Fetishism by David Kunzle, The Corset: A Cultural History by Valerie Steele.

Part of the idea for this chapter was someone asking (on fashion messageboard I post on) about recommendations for "tasteful bondage" accessories. _O RLY._

**So, review, pretty please!?  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Big hugs to my beta **EverIntruiged **for her editing prowess and continually challenging me to churn out more quality work. Thanks for the super fast beta, bb!

**Swill122** is win for commenting on Alice being in denial about her shoes.

Thanks to **Algonquinrt **for help with some q's while I was working on this story!

**Warning:** BDSM involved. Not that you didn't know that if you've read the other 8 chapters so far. (mildly risk aware consensual kink)

Longest chapter yet, so please show the love with that little green **review** button!

Don't own anything remotely Twilight!

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"_It is a subtle abyss that separates men's use of women for sexual titillation from women's use of women to expose that insult."_

_Lucy Lippard, __From the Centre_

**BPOV**

After talking with Alice I grabbed a drink and headed to my bedroom. I wanted to talk to her more about things, but I wasn't sure I could talk with her rationally without getting on my soapbox about the fact that she wasn't really wearing her shoes for herself.

I certainly didn't have any room to talk—as I didn't even buy the corset I was wearing—but at least I was fully aware of any catalysts for my decisions.

I opened up my laptop and looked through some of my notes. I was still culling bits and pieces to figure out where this should go. Through my research I had decided one of the themes I wanted to focus on was that gender didn't seem an indicative factor in respect to producing male-oriented images that reinforced stereotypes.

There was a decent enough group of female-lead productions, with a vast female following even, that displayed violent images and perpetuated the status quo. I had never been part of the anti-pornography establishment, but I found myself questioning my already liberal viewpoints. I hoped this wouldn't change my dissertation.

After working for a few hours, I shut my laptop down to get some sleep. It was then that I remembered what I was wearing. Oddly enough, I didn't register the corset throughout the rest of today. It wasn't exactly second skin, but it was comfortable enough for me to forget it.

I removed my clothes until I remained just in the corset as I lay in bed. It felt more erotic than being naked and was a reminder of the things to come for tomorrow. I rubbed my legs together enjoying the friction but decided to end things there—the anticipation of Edward was too much for me right now and I wanted to be able to savor everything about this corset with him.

***

I got up early to get ready for the meeting with my advisor. I wanted to get the lasagna ready to go so I could relax when I got home. I was going to make a simple spinach and pesto recipe.

After layering the items I covered the lasagna and put it back in the fridge. I grabbed my things and headed out the door to meet my professor.

I walked up Nebraska Ave and slowly made my way to the building. Jessica Stanley, another one of the department's graduate assistants, was walking in the opposite direction of me as I went to see my advisor.

"Hey Bella, off to see the Professor?"

"Yep. I have a meeting with her. And so it goes," I sighed dramatically.

She laughed at my antics. "You should _see_ what she's wearing today. Talk about mutton dressed as lamb."

I quirked a brow at her, "Mutton dressed as lamb?"

"God! I mean she's wearing a mini-skirt! _At 60?" _Oh the irony coming from a women's studies major.

"So, what, women are supposed to have a shelf life on what they can do at a certain age?" I asked, annoyed.

She looked surprised at my response, apparently expecting me to be equally outraged at the idea of an older woman dressing similarly to her.

"I'm not saying that, I'm just saying I don't think it's age appropriate."

I rolled my eyes. Progressive didn't seem to be a term she was familiar with. Was she going to tell me that women dressing a certain way were _asking for it_ too?

"Yay feminism!" I joked sarcastically. She gave a little huff before walking away.

I smiled to myself as I thought of the shocked look I imagined would grace her face if she knew what I was wearing underneath my clothes.

I walked towards my advisor's office and knocked lightly on her open door.

"Good morning Professor," I greeted her cheerfully.

"Bella, please, how many times have I asked you to call me Betty?"

I smiled at her informality and walked further in the room. I was curious to see what she was wearing after hearing Jessica rant about her attire. As I expected, she was wearing a skirt just above the knee, and a crisp white button-down dress shirt. _Mini-skirt, my ass,_ I thought.

She looked the picture of a tenured professor, and quite sexy at that. I shook the thought from my head before sitting down in the chair next to her desk. She eyed me quizzically.

"Well tell me what it is that has your brow so furrowed?"

"Just something Jessica Stanley said, I ran into her on my way here. Nothing of consequence." I knew Professor Friedan wasn't a woman whose feathers ruffled easily, but just the same I didn't feel it was necessary to comment. She shrugged before dismissing the subject and immediately zoned straight into my work. "So what do you have for me today?"

I reached into my bag and grabbed my notes. Despite how busy I had been over the past few days, I was still able to get some work done.

"I am still working through a lot of my notes, but I managed to get five pages of the draft started. It's not much, but it sets the tone." I handed her binder I kept my work in.

I sat there quietly as she leafed through the pages. When she was finished, she turned to me, "This is a good start. I like where you are going with this. You've done your research and it shows. There is a book I read recently that I think would complement your paper nicely."

I waited as she wrote down the title and author for me. I looked down at the paper and read it to myself:

**_Getting off: pornography and the end of masculinity_****_ by Robert Jensen_**

I looked back at her as she continued to speak.

"Your research shows a lot of the female voice on the issue, but I think it is equally important to see this from both viewpoints, even if you aren't of the same opinion." I nodded my head in agreement. We talked for a few more minutes and set up an appointment for me to meet with her in two weeks.

I made my way through campus and back to my apartment and took a quick nap to calm my nerves about dinner.

***

I woke up an hour later feeling refreshed. I looked at the clock. _4:45. _I needed to get the oven preheated if I wanted things to be ready in time. I went to the kitchen and turned the oven on and then removed the lasagna from the fridge.

When the oven finished preheating, I put the lasagna in and went to the bathroom. I couldn't shower, but I did want to freshen up a bit. I grabbed a wash cloth out of the cabinet and did a quick "sponge bath." It was enough to make me feel a little bit cleaner.

I dabbed on some perfume and more deodorant, as I was bound to be sweating a bit more tonight. With all of us together again for dinner, it was making me nervous even though I had known everyone except Edward for awhile. Emmett was sure to tease us, but perhaps he'd back off if I gave as well as I got.

As I walked out of the bathroom I heard laughing down the hall. I tried to tiptoe quietly back to my room, but resistance was futile…

"Bella! Come on! Let's pick something out for you to wear!" I groaned at the thought. Rose still had yet to see my choice of undergarments.

They accosted me in the hall and tugged lightly on my arm before pulling me back to my room.

"I just want to dress in something simple. I'm cooking tonight and since this is our first date night with everyone, I'm going to be nervous enough as it is without trying to adjust some too-tight dress you want to throw me in."

They nodded and peered into my closet. Alice grabbed a black cotton tank dress. It was perfect for tonight—simple, yet sexy. The material wasn't stuffy, but it was thick enough to not show what I was wearing underneath.

"Oooh that will look great on you! Let's see it!" Rose enthused.

I took the dress from Alice's hands and was about to walk back to the bathroom to change before they stopped me.

"It's not like we haven't seen it all before," Alice commented lightly. I gave her a pleading look. Rose hadn't seen it all before and I wanted it to stay that way.

"I already know about the corset, Bella, don't worry about it. I bet it will give you amazing cleavage in this dress!"

I shot a glare at Alice. I guess nothing was sacred in this house.

I removed my clothes quickly and threw on the dress. It looked pretty good I had to admit. Alice always had exceptional taste.

"He's going to be panting to get you out of this once he sees you!" Alice trilled.

I flushed at the thought of him getting me out of the dress, and more importantly, the corset. It was only 24 hours, but I had a feeling my flesh would be sensitive to the touch after the confinement.

"No heels," I stated firmly. I instead grabbed a pair of black ballet flats to complete the look. They looked at me appraisingly and appeared to be satisfied.

"Speaking of getting me out of this dress… I was hoping you two would be able to stay at Jazz and Em's place?" I asked shyly, as I looked at the ground.

I could feel the heat of their stares and looked up to see their reactions. Both of them were sporting huge grins.

I took their expressions as confirmation they concurred with my wish and moved past them to check on the lasagna. I pushed my embarrassment aside and peeked in the oven. It still had to cook for 40 more minutes covered before I added more cheese and cooked it.

I prepared a quick salad and an antipasti tray to serve along with dinner. I couldn't seem to shake the nerves I was feeling, and though I knew Edward was bringing wine to serve with dinner; I opened a bottle of white to have a small glass to calm me down while I waited for dinner to finish cooking.

Time passed too quickly and before I knew it, it was 6:15. Alice and Rose came into the kitchen and poured a glass to drink with me.

"A toast?" Alice asked.

"To?" I responded curiously.

"To lasting friendships and relationships." _Indeed._ I smiled as we clinked glasses and sipped our wine.

Rose put her hand on my shoulder, "Relax Bella, you know everyone already and the evening is going to be fine. I'll even keep a tight rein on Emmett for you." Her eyes twinkled with her last sentence and I laughed at her.

"Thanks Rose. I don't know why I'm so nervous. I guess I just haven't had a boyfriend in awhile." I appreciated her efforts in calming me. I would just have to wait to see what tonight brought.

At 6:25 our buzzer rang. Alice pressed our intercom to let them in and I paced impatiently.

When there was a soft knock on our door, I rushed to get it. I was anxious to see Edward. I opened it up and saw two bright smiles. _Oh. _I guess they didn't come together.

"Hi guys," I said, slightly dejected.

"Good to see you too, Bella!" Emmett mused, upon seeing my expression. He reached down and grabbed me for a big hug. It was done too quickly for me to avert his attention.

"Thanks, Em," I choked out.

"Hey Bella," Jasper greeted with a smile.

Emmett let go of me and I waved a hello to Jasper before leading the way to the kitchen to offer them some wine. I poured them each a glass.

"So what's new?" I asked politely.

"Business has been slow," Emmett stated with a sigh. He was a project manager for a development company, so I imagined with the economy things were quite slow for him.

"It'll pick up," I offered.

"Mmm hmm," he responded, "but, it may take awhile before that happens. For now, at least we have a few projects to keep us afloat."

I nodded. "How about you, Jasper, work keeping you busy?" Jasper worked as an accountant for a non-profit in Eastern Market.

"Busy enough. It's always difficult trying to get blood out of stone."

"You just need to cook the books a bit! I'm sure the IRS doesn't monitor the public sector as heavily," I joked.

"That's definitely a way for me to de-stress a little at work," he responded sarcastically. We all shared a laugh at that.

Alice and Rose joined us in the kitchen with their wine glasses and we talked casually while waiting for Edward to arrive. Our intercom buzzed a few minutes later and I went to let him in. I opened the door before he arrived, and waited for him.

"Hi," I said softly as he approached me with flowers in one hand and wine in the other.

"For m'lady," he proffered the flowers gallantly, successfully diffusing the anxiety I felt about the evening.

"Thanks," I replied with a smile. I motioned for him to come in and I walked towards the kitchen to grab a vase from one of the cabinets. I heard Emmett whistle as he spotted the flowers.

"Eddie, I didn't see you when we left the club on Saturday. Does this dinner mean that you went home with little Bella here?" he asked, winking suggestively.

Rose smacked the back of his head in a motion for him to cool it. I smiled my thanks to her in response. The oven dinged, saving him from a response, and I ushered everyone into the dining room so I could get the lasagna ready to serve.

I bent down to take the lasagna out of the oven and felt a body press firmly behind me. I startled slightly but spoke in a calm voice, "You do know that a hot oven and a glass dish are not conducive to foreplay."

He chuckled and backed away from me. I stood up and placed the lasagna on the stove to let it cool off. I grabbed the vinaigrette and shook it lightly before pouring it on the salad.

"Can you put this out on the table?" I asked, trying not to get flustered at his proximity.

"Sure."

I grabbed the antipasti tray and went to place it on the table as well.

"Dinner will be ready in five minutes, have some wine and relax," I told them.

I walked back to the kitchen, aware of being followed. I went on as if I wasn't aware of his every motion, and grabbed a knife from the rack to cut the lasagna. He moved closer still, flush against me with his hands on the counter beside my hips trapping me.

I grabbed an oven mitt and held the dish taut as I cut slices into it. He brushed my hair aside as I was cutting and whispered in my ear, "Did you sleep well?"

My hand shook slightly as the shivers washed over my body. I couldn't concentrate on what I was doing with his distracting whispers.

"_Dinner,"_ I breathed out, trying to regain my composure.

He didn't move and instead pressed even closer to me. With his lips still at my ear he nibbled softly and said, "Later. Tell me how your sleep was." He ghosted his lips up and down my ear awaiting my response.

I laid the knife down and leaned in to his touch. "Heavenly," I said finally.

He leaned further in and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before backing away. Without turning around to see him walk out of the room, I finished cutting the lasagna and put the knife down and grabbed another oven mitt to bring it out into the dining room.

"Dinner is served," I rushed out.

I put the casserole dish on the table and removed my oven mitts. I put them back in the kitchen and sat down next to Edward.

Alice had already set the table and put appropriate serving utensils down so I grabbed one to serve the dish. I lifted one of the slices onto my plate and asked the others to pass down their plates so I could give them some, too.

Once we all had our meals ready Rose gave another toast like earlier, this time to "budding romance" as she smirked at me and Edward. I blushed and wondered why it wasn't possible to get through this dinner unscathed. Edward turned to me and held my gaze as he drank from his wine in confirmation of her toast.

The rest of the dinner went well with easy conversation and laughs from everyone. I was pleased with how well we all got along together, and I was hoping to do this again.

The guys cleared our plates while I chatted with Rose and Alice at the table. I was pretty keyed up, but I somehow managed to maintain my calm in front of them.

"We'll see you tomorrow I guess?" Alice asked. I smiled brightly remembering that I had asked them to stay with Emmett and Jasper.

"Yes, I can't tell you how much I appreciate this… and introducing me to Edward in the first place. I never thought I'd actually say this about a guy, but he's perfect."

"You're welcome," Rose replied warmly. Alice looked over the moon at my admission.

They came back into the dining room and we stood up with them.

"I guess it's time for us to get going," Emmett said.

"Yeah, I have work early in the morning," Jasper added. Alice and Rose went to grab their overnight bags and we chatted a bit more waiting for them to return.

"We should do this again, only next time one of you guys should cook," I teased.

We laughed at the thought of Emmett cooking us dinner and the ladies came back looking at us expectantly.

"Just picturing Em in an apron," Edward joked.

We said our goodbyes as they walked out the door and Edward turned the lock and added the deadbolt.

"And then there were two," he said lightly, but I could see his eyes darkening.

He moved in a slow, steady motion as he approached me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He held me tightly to him and ran his hands up and down my back.

He pulled away from me slightly and looked at me.

"You're still wearing it," he said in wonder.

"Of course," I scoffed, "Did you ever doubt me?"

"Never, but it still completely amazes me and turns me on that you did this. _For me_."

"For us." I corrected as I leaned up to kiss him. I intended it to be a soft kiss, but he seemed to have other ideas. He pressed his lips to mine harder before opening my mouth with his tongue. I moved my tongue with his, enjoying the taste of him and we kissed until we were both out of breath. When we pulled away from each other panting, I led the way to my bedroom.

"I'd love to kiss you forever, but I've been itching to get out of this corset. I'd like some _release._"

"Soon."

When we got in my bedroom we slipped off our shoes and he unbuckled his belt. He removed it with his pants and stood there in his boxers and a polo. I lifted my dress off me and he eyed me up and down.

He removed his shirt, boxers, and socks before standing in front of me.

"I know you want to take this off, but I'd love if you could keep it on just a little longer."

He turned me around and untied the laces slightly, only to pull slightly tighter. I jerked in response. He turned me around and asked with concern, "Can you breathe okay?"

The corset was even snugger than before, but it still did not constrict my breathing.

"Yes, I can," I assured him.

He nodded before continuing, "If this becomes uncomfortable for you at any point, just let me know and we'll stop."

I told him I was ok with that and he guided me to the bed. I wasn't sure how he wanted me positioned, so I laid down and waited.

"Where are your condoms, Bella?" he asked. I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed one out of the drawer. I coyly opened the package with my teeth and handed him the opened wrapper.

He kneeled in-between my legs and gazed at me, "I tightened your corset because mild asphyxiation heightens sensations. Tell me to stop if it becomes to much for you."

I nodded my consent as he positioned himself at my entrance and plunged into me. I gasped as I felt him fill me. I could feel my skin tight against the corset with every breath. I was able to regulate my breathing, but not without effort.

He stilled above me and looked for any cues that I needed him to stop.

"I'm fine—please don't stop."

He continued to move inside me, each stroke making my breath come in gasps, bringing a rush to me and intensifying the sensation. I couldn't describe how amazing it felt. _Just like everything else with Edward._

I wrapped my arms and legs around him, pulling him further inside me, encouraging him to move faster. Everything was so intense I could feel my orgasm building quickly.

"God, I'm going to come," I panted, between breaths.

He moved even faster. I met his thrusts with my own when I felt my orgasm wash over me. My nails dug into his back as my body shook with the vibrations moving inside me.

His orgasm followed with a quick grunt and he collapsed on top of me, panting as much as I was.

"Edward…" I breathed out as I moved my arms to push him off me.

He quickly pulled out and rolled beside me.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

I laughed, relieved to have his weight off of me and my diaphragm.

"It's ok. You were right at least."

"I usually am, but about what this time?" he said with a smirk.

"That felt better than anything I've ever experienced."

He looked at me tenderly and turned me onto my side.

"I'm glad," he replied as he started undoing the laces slowly. He caressed the laces as he undid each one, moving his hands against the corset. When the laces were all undone completely, he slid it off my body and gently placed it on the floor.

He laid on his back and beckoned me to lay next to him. I rested my head on his chest as he stroked my hair lightly and moved his hands up and down my flesh, sensitive from the tightness of the corset.

"Thank you for sharing that with me, Bella," he said into my hair as he continued to stroke. I closed my eyes and smiled against his chest.

"Anytime."

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**A/N:** **Please review** and let me know what you think of the chapter!

So, why is there no "traditional" safeword system, you ask? Let me tell you why. For me, using "no" or "stop" or "don't" is sufficient (for non edge-play), and what I use with DH, as we don't practice any kind of scenario where the idea of any of those words would be used as part of the scene. This is *my* personal preference, and again, my personal issues with the idea that "no means no" (which, lucky you, my issues are now Bella's issues!) Other safewords have their place and purpose, but Bella and Edward will not be participating in any scenarios where "no," "stop," or "don't" are part of the scene, so those are their safewords.

I have not read Getting Off but it is on my library queue. It was referenced in something I read online and it sounds really interesting. I'll let you know if it's crap!

I have been reading actual fiction lately (instead of reference-y type stuff)! Another fic ("His Personal Assistant" by NorthernLights17—very fun and sexy fic, link in favorites) talked of The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty by Anne Rice and it sounded interesting. Well, it was like 200+ pages of me being extremely pissed off. If anyone has read the entire series, can you tell me if she ends up with Alexi? I requested the other books from the library, but I really don't want to read them. (I can't find a good synopsis online)


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Not qualified whatsoever to comment on art but I'mma do it anyhow.

XOXO to my beta **EverIntruiged **for keeping my grammar and spelling in check!

Thanks to **ceastyle** for help with my French (which is very rusty) and **acireamos** for the art talk!

**Sleepyvalentina** officially owns any kind of art related fic, but I'm just exploring art for a chapter. Check out her story "Art After 5," it's in my favorites.

I don't own _Le Viol (The Rape), Les Amants (The Lovers)_ or any other work by René Magritte. (really, not even a poster!) Links to the artwork in my profile.

After lots of discussion on the twi thread and via email with **mskathy,** I decided the safeword thing needed revisiting. Come chat with us on the thread! Lots of cool discussion going on there...

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_**Malapropism**__ - the usually unintentionally humorous misuse or distortion of a word or phrase; __especially_**_:_**_ the use of a word sounding somewhat like the one intended but ludicrously wrong in the context_

"_My painting is visible images which conceal nothing; they evoke mystery and, indeed, when one sees one of my pictures, one asks oneself this simple question, 'What does that mean?'. It does not mean anything, because mystery means nothing either, it is unknowable."_

_René Magritte_

**BPOV**

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside. I looked at the clock. _7 am. Ugh. Too early. _ I looked over to my right and saw Edward next to me. I didn't notice it the last few times I had woken up with him, but he was snoring lightly.

I wanted to laugh at the idea of this perfect man snoring, but I didn't want to wake him up. I just sat there taking in the scene of him, naked, _in my bed_. I looked down and remembered I wasn't wearing the corset anymore.

I enjoyed wearing it for a day, but I wasn't sure it was something I could do regularly. _Though maybe next time he could focus more on taking it off rather than leaving it on._

I continued watching him and tried to lightly trace the outline of his face. He always looked beautiful, but especially so in the morning.

Last night's dinner went better than I expected. I was thankful Rose was able to keep Emmett's comments to a minimum. I could only imagine what she threatened him with to get him to behave.

It seemed to be an even bigger plus to this relationship, beyond the hot sex, was possibly getting closer to my roommates. We were good friends and I liked them a lot, but we never seemed to have much in common before. Dating their boyfriends' friend seemed like a great chance to get to know them even better.

I had stopped ogling him and was staring off into space, unaware that he had woken up until I felt his hands slowly moving up my sides until they reached my underarms.

My brain didn't even process it for a moment until I was on my back with him on top of me in full-out laughter.

He was tickling me!

"Wait! That tickles!" I spat out between gasps. I could barely breathe between the laughing and tickling.

"I know," he smirked at me, and continued moving his hands in feather motions all over my upper body.

"Ahhh…" I tried to get out between laughing.

"RED RUM!" I burst out. He stopped immediately and looked at me incredulously.

"_What?"_

"Um, don't you do that whole safe word thing in BDSM?" I asked, suddenly unsure.

"But 'red rum'?" He still looked at me agape.

"It was the first thing that came to my mind. It made you stop, didn't it?"

"That it did," he laughed out. "I'm sorry we didn't talk about safe words, I assumed that my telling you if you needed to stop at any point to tell me to do so was enough. Would you like to set one up?"

Would I? "Well, when you put it like that, I like the idea of 'stop' being my safe word. It's simple and seems pretty common sense to me."

"Then we can do that. I think it works for now… but if ever you wanted to do things along the line of edge play, perhaps we could revisit this discussion? Because there may be a time when you might say stop and not mean it," he said seriously.

"I'm not sure I like the idea of you not stopping at 'stop.' It seems to go against everything I believe to say no and mean yes. That's something I'd really have to think about," I told him honestly.

He nodded in assurance that he understood what I was saying. "Definitely."

"Just for the record, tickling is pretty much a deal breaker with me. You'd do well to remember that," I said with a stern voice.

He just chuckled in response.

I looked at the clock again and saw it was already 8:30. Had I spent that much time gawking at him?

"We should probably get out of bed and actually do something. Maybe I could cook you breakfast? I've been spoiled by you taking care of me and I'd like to return the favor."

I stood up and walked to my dresser to grab a night shirt to wear. I was comfortable being around him naked, but I wasn't sure if Alice or Rose would be back this morning. He stood up and grabbed his boxers, but didn't put his shirt back on.

"Breakfast would be great, but I think I'd just like some cereal if it's okay."

"I hope you aren't questioning my cooking skills after the lasagna last night, because I was there at dinner—it would have knocked the socks off of Mario Batali."

He walked over, pulled me into a hug and kissed my cheek lightly.

"Mario be damned, your dinner was fantastic. I'm just more in the mood for something sugary."

"Says the man who barely stocks more than Kashi at his place in way of sugar."

We walked into the kitchen and I grabbed the sugariest cereal we had—Reese's Puffs.

"This okay?" I asked, shaking the box of cereal.

He nodded. "Sure, I've never had them but I trust your judgment."

"Oooh, you're in for a treat then! These are basically crack in a cereal version."

I poured us both bowls and grabbed the milk from the fridge for him.

"I can make us some coffee, too? I warn you though, we only keep froufy creamer." Alice made sure that we always had some kind of creamer on hand, but it was usually in the form of chocolate éclair, or currently French vanilla.

"It's fine, I take it black."

I started the coffee and motioned for him to go to the living room.

"You can't eat a breakfast like this without sitting in front of the TV."

He laughed at that, but moved to the couch anyway.

When the coffee was done, I poured both our cups and walked to sit next to him on the couch. I put the cups and my bowl down to get the remote. I turned on TBS, thankful for reruns of _Saved By the Bell_.

He burst out in laughter when he heard the theme song being played.

"I loved this show as a kid," I said in defense. He merely smiled and continued to eat his cereal before glancing at my bowl.

"No milk?"

"I like to keep the Reese's Puffs in their purest form," I responded sagely.

We ate our respective bowls of cereal and sipped coffee while watching the episode. It was the one where Zack has a crush on a homeless girl who works at the mall.

"Do you have any plans today?" he asked between bites.

"Not at the moment," I responded coyly.

"I was thinking maybe we could go to the Smithsonian today."

"Which museum did you want to go to?" One of the best things about D.C. was the culture I had access to. Washington was no New York, but there was so much history contained in the museums we housed.

"Hirshhorn? They have some works by the Surrealist artist René Magritte in their permanent collection, and they also have a current exhibition of other works, including his vache period, right now."

"His cow period?" I joked.

"It also means nasty or crude. _Vacherie_ is a 'nasty trick.' You'll see."

"Hmm." It sounded fun, and I wanted to spend the day with him, but I wasn't very familiar with art, let alone Surrealism.

"Does that sound ok?"

"It does… I just have to admit I'm not much of an art historian. I've never actually taken an art class outside of drawing in high school." I was embarrassed to admit this aloud.

"You don't have to study art to be passionate about it. I think you'll like his work. He's one of my favorites."

"When you put it that way…," I teased. "Do you want to get ready here? I didn't notice last night whether or not you had brought a change of clothes. I was too busy noticing the flowers." I smiled thinking of that. This wasn't just sex anymore.

"I left my bag in the entryway; I didn't want to draw attention to it, in case you didn't want them to know."

"It's okay, Edward. They all knew you were staying over. At least the girls did, and I'm sure when they told Em and Jazz they were staying at their place, they put two and two together."

He seemed to accept my answer and what it implied: I wanted people to know about us.

"Can I be cliché and ask if we are going to conserve energy with this shower?" He had a beautiful grin on his face.

"Maybe," I teased, getting an idea suddenly.

I reached for the hem of my night shirt and pulled it over my head. I held onto it as I walked into the bathroom, not wanting to litter my clothes around the apartment. He followed hot on my heels.

I laughed and tried to close the door. He was pushing against it, but I held my own.

"Let me in!" he yelled pounding on the door. I kept laughing and tried to push it shut. With a burst of energy, I managed to get the door closed completely and locked it.

"I'll shower first," I called out. I couldn't keep the smile off my face.

I took a quick shower and wrapped a towel around my body. I picked up my shirt and unlocked the door. He was slumped next to the door in the hallway.

"Shower's all yours," I said lightly, ignoring his scowl.

I got dressed and read a magazine while I waited for him to come out of the shower. I could barely control myself when he came back to my bedroom with the towel slung low on his hips. Low enough that I could see the small trail of hair.

I walked over to him and was about to place my hand on his body when he lightly slapped it away.

"After that little stunt? I don't think so," he chided.

I gave him a pout and tried to move my hand back where I wanted it. He stopped it in it's track.

"Later, if you're good. Right now we have a museum to go to."

I sighed in frustration and then remembered this was my own doing.

***

We took the Metro to L'Enfant Plaza and walked for a little bit before getting to the Hirshhorn. We walked through the museum and Edward led the way to the exhibit he wanted me to see.

I didn't know anything about the artist we were going to see so I was excited. This was something new I was learning about Edward—he liked art. I looked around and saw strange images of trains coming out of chimneys, people morphed with shark bodies. It was very odd to see the juxtaposition of these images together.

I stopped to see a nude painting. I looked over at the title, _Le Viol (The Rape). _I was floored, what an awful name for a painting.

"What do you think?" he asked, coming up beside me.

"It's creepy. It reminds me of something Faulkner wrote, _'a virgin with no legs to leave me, no arms to hold me, no head to talk to me.'_"

I walked closer to look at the painting. It was a portrait, of sorts, of a woman. Her torso was superimposed where her face would be. She had breasts for eyes, a belly button for a nose, and pubic hair in place of a mouth.

"Hello Kitty doesn't have a mouth," he countered with a smirk.

I shot him a look of annoyance.

"Sorry, that was a bad joke, but I couldn't resist. I don't think Magritte was intending to invoke anything of Faulkner in this. Most of the critiques I've read and other psychological studies of his work imply that this is something left over from the death of his mother. She committed suicide by throwing herself in a river and was found naked from the neck down, with her gown over her face."

He took my hand and we walked to another painting, a man and woman kissing. Their heads were both covered completely with scarves. They were just as anonymous as the woman in the previous painting.

I looked at the title of the painting, _Les Amants (The Lovers)_.

"No faces on them, either," he commented softly behind me as I continued to look at the painting.

"This isn't entitled _The Rape_, though. They are lovers. I can see the passion, even in all the anonymity. It's secret, not vulgar." I couldn't hide the distaste for the art in my last statement.

"We don't know why he called it _The Rape_. Maybe he wasn't saying anything other than part of the act of violence involved is disregarding the person being violated. Magritte said, '_No object is so inextricably linked to its name that one could not give it another name that would suit it better.' _I wonder, with that in mind, had he chosen another title for this work if you would have had such a visceral reaction to it."

I thought about that for a minute. Would I have reacted as violently to it if it wasn't titled in such a way that demanded reaction? I couldn't imagine how someone who I considered progressive and would possibly even call a feminist, would like images such as these. Was he going to break out a collection of Crumb comics, next?

"I think I still would have reacted similarly," I said defiantly.

I continued walking, taking in the other images as I went along. Some of them I liked, one in particular I would have even called breathtaking called _La Magie Noir._ Other images were just as disturbing as _Le Viol. _An image of a woman contained in a wine bottle next to a dinner plate was just as jarring.

I looked away from the paintings and saw Edward staring at me.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine… I just can't imagine what you see in these works. They are so aggressive. It just doesn't seem like you." Or at least what I knew of him after a week.

"You can't imagine me being aggressive?" I flushed. _That_ I could definitely imagine, and had imagined on several occasions.

"It just reminds me that there is so much we don't know about each other. I know a lot about Edward, the sex god, but not so much about Edward, the person."

"Isn't that what we're doing here? Learning about each other?"

I didn't respond and he grabbed my hand instead.

"C'mon, love, let's go check the others out."

"Ceci n'est pas une pipe," I read aloud in poorly accented French when we got to the next painting.

"This is not a pipe," he translated for me before continuing, "Not all is what it seems. Beyond being a painting of a pipe and not the actual pipe itself, perhaps he was also referring to the use of _pipe _as slang in French like _tailler une pipe_—or rather, fellatio."

"What about your guy Freud, 'sometimes a cigar is just a cigar'?"

"It's never been documented he said that."

I rolled my eyes. "Beside the point, Edward."

"I like these works because I think they are interesting. They make you want to know what he was thinking. I don't always like what I see, or agree with the interpretations, but I am always left thinking about each work long after I've left the museum. I like that I'm challenged by looking at these works."

"I can respect that, but if I'm honest, it kind of turns me off that you like these. They seem to be extremely misogynistic and display violent idealized images of women." I shuddered as I thought of _Le Viol_ again_. _

He looked at me with a worried expression. I looked at the ground because I couldn't take the intensity of his stare.

"I'm sorry you find these to be misogynistic, but I really don't think that was the artist's intent and I don't interpret them to be such, either. Look at me, please," he pleaded, placing a finger under my chin to bring my head up.

"I don't want you to be upset. If this exhibit bothers you, we can leave."

His gaze was piercing and I realized there are things worth getting upset over, but having differing views on art probably wasn't one of them. It reminded me, though, that I needed to find out his views on other things if we wanted to further our relationship.

"Do they have any Lichtenstein's here? I think I need something fluffy."

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**A/N:** Thoughts? **Review** and I'll send you a **preview **of the next chapter! My other multi-chapter story is complete, so updates will take less time for this story.

I actually taught my daughter to say "Red rum!" because sometimes she speaks in a voice that sounds eerily like the boy in _The Shining_ when he uses his "thumb voice."

Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden is one of the many Smithsonian Museums in DC. Definitely worth checking out if you visit.

Bella's reaction to the artwork is my initial reaction (which was pretty much "OMGWTFBBQ"); Edward's responses are the product of research on Magritte (because I imagined Magritte being someone he'd read up on). All the images are linked in my profile, but I warn they are NSFW/School and are (at least to me) very jarring. There are several versions of _Les Amants_ and _Le Viol,_ but I linked the ones I am specifically referencing in my profile.

Really not a fan of Faulkner or his run-on sentences in general, but it fit.

Robert Crumb is a comic book artist. If you want to be grossed out, go rent the movie _Crumb_.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:** My awesome beta **EverIntruiged** got this chapter out super quickly for yinz (you're still reading, right?)! Hugs and kisses and hopes that her art class goes well!

A note for last chapter really should have been made that the tickling scene was inspired the genius that is **algonquinrt**, who talked of tickling on the Twilighted thread for this story. Algie also gets a star for being right about Edward. (Does that mean I am predictable?)

Thanks to the **fictionators blog** for rec'ing this story, and especially **Kassiah** for giving it such a wonderful review. Link for blog in profile.

Song for this chapter is Sleater-Kinney's "Turn it on." Link in profile.

The troika (unrelated to Stalin—no redbaiting here) can dissect away! (but hopefully not skewer)

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_"Interpretation is the revenge of the intellect upon art."  
Susan Sontag_

**BPOV**

We left the exhibit and walked to another wing to see some works by Lichtenstein. Even though I wasn't familiar with art, I knew what his works were like—random comic book type scenes with dramatic oeuvres. They always brought a smile to my face whenever I saw them, whether in print or in person.

"Thanks for suggesting leaving the exhibit. I don't think I could have looked at any more of those paintings." I tried to push the images out of my mind.

"You don't have to thank me for that, you seemed really upset…" he paused, "but I wonder, was there more to it than what you said?" His gaze wasn't curious, as I expected it to be, just concerned.

Even if I had decided it wasn't something worth arguing over, I still felt I needed to know for myself why he liked these images beyond the idea that they 'challenged' him. I tried to think how to explain myself further without sounding militant.

"Okay, it's like this—imagine you had incredible chemistry with someone and really liked them only to find out they were… I don't know, let's say a felon. How would you feel then?" I almost said murderer, but that seemed a little extreme.

He looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "Depends on the crime."

"Does the crime matter? A felony is pretty serious business."

"It _always_ matters. Besides which, felony is a pretty broad category. I would hope if I found myself in that situation, I wouldn't be quick to judge the person based on what their 'file' says. I would like to think I would be rational enough to delve into the situation more."

I knew we weren't talking about my example anymore. He seemed to think I was judging him based on some artwork. I guess I was, but for me it seemed like so much more. Just like I wouldn't date a--

"You aren't a _Republican,_ are you?" I whispered nervously.

His lips twitched into a smile. "And if I said yes? Would you stop dating me?" _Shit. That wasn't a denial._

I didn't have to hesitate. "Absolutely."

"As it happens, I am a registered Democrat, but just hearing you say that makes me wonder where you draw the line between your head and your heart."

And there it was—laid out for me in simple terms that he knew what this was about. I had thought for the most part most of my struggle had been internal, but he seemed to see through me.

"They aren't separate for me. I _won't_ separate them." I wasn't sure how exactly to clarify myself to him. I could never let my heart lead me astray from my convictions, no matter how strongly I felt about someone.

"So, what, you are going to push me away because we don't agree on everything?"

I sighed. "I didn't say that. Maybe I didn't explain myself enough… but I just wasn't expecting you to like this type of thing."

"What type of 'thing?'" he asked.

"Just the whole… it makes me wonder if you are a misogynist. I wonder if your pleasure from tying me up stems from this." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them instantly. His eyes were pure fire and I began to think maybe this wasn't the time or place for this discussion. _Little late for that now._

"If you're only doing this _for me_, then I encourage you not do it _at all_."

Maybe I had gone too far, but part of me was annoyed that he was reacting this way to my opinions. The rest of me was wondering how the fuck I was supposed to work my way out of this.

"No, I didn't mean… I shouldn't have said that." The way he looked so expectantly at me, angered me enough to change my mind about backpedaling.

"What do you want me to say? Just because I fancy myself submissive in the bedroom doesn't mean you should expect it of me anywhere else. I can't change who I am." I sighed, this was taking so much out of me.

"I'm not saying I don't want this," I gestured between us, "I'm just saying that being in this relationship is making me question everything I thought I knew about myself." _And if it's this hard now, what about later?_

His face softened, and he seemed to understand what I was saying.

"I'm not asking you to change. I know we probably have some different ideals and visions, but Bella," he paused to add meaning to what he was saying; "you don't have to change who you are to be in this, or any relationship. I wouldn't want you to. I want Bella Swan, not a chameleon girlfriend."

I chuckled at the term 'chameleon girlfriend,' definitely something I'd witnessed before.

"I'd have to _know_ more about you to chameleon-ize myself to be more _like_ you," I teased, thankful for the change of tone in conversation. I hoped my earlier words would be forgotten.

"Ask me, then. Ask me anything you want and I'll do my best to answer."

I thought about it—what was I most dying to ask Edward? I knew about his schooling and his 'lifestyle' but I didn't know anything else really.

"Okay then, start at the beginning. Tell me everything about growing up."

I couldn't wait to hear him tell me about his childhood and family. I just hoped there weren't secretly sacrificed cats somewhere along the line of this story.

"I was born Edward Anthony Masen on June 20th, 1982 in Chicago. My parents were Elizabeth and Edward Masen." _Were?_ "No siblings, but I did have a dog named Aro. My father died when I was thirteen and my mother died a year later. I went to live with my godparents and changed my name when they legally adopted me."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. How did your parents die?" I could see it still pained him to talk about it, even after all these years. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I added hastily. I didn't want my curiosity to get the better of me.

"Thank you. It was a long time ago, though, and I've accepted they are gone. My father died of a heart attack. My mother died of a broken heart a year later."

I wondered what he meant by 'a broken heart'. I was reminded of a story I read in grade school, Where the Red Fern Grows. It was about dogs, but the sentiment still held of dying from loneliness. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, but none of them felt appropriate.

He must have seen the perplexed look on my face because he offered me an answer without being prompted.

"She killed herself," he stated in a flat tone.

Beyond feeling sorrow for him, I felt like a jackass. I had made so many comments about the paintings—the misogyny, the imagery, how fucked up everything was… I had called _him_ a misogynist. I did that without even asking him to explain further about why he liked this work. I felt sick thinking of the accusations I slung at him.

"God, Edward I'm… I don't even know what to say. I understand why you were drawn to Magritte… and relate to his work even more. You were right—I was judging you. I made a conclusion of my own without having all the details and I'm sorry." I hoped he heard the sincerity in my voice.

He shook his head. "While I admit I was initially drawn to the work after an art teacher mentioned his backstory in high school, it's not what continues to draw me to surrealism. I meant what I said about enjoying the challenges the images present to me."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ventured gently.

He wore a small, sad smile on his face. "No, Bella. Not only did I have years of therapy after they died, but I've also had the pleasure of repeated head shrinking through school. I've talked about my parents enough."

Therapy or not, I figured there was more than he was telling me, but I dropped the issue.

"Tell me about your godparents then."

"Carlisle and Esme Cullen were my parents' best friends. They are two of the most genuine, supportive people I've met. I'm lucky to have them, along with Jasper and Emmett in my life."

"How did you meet them?" I was curious. I talked with Alice and Rose a decent amount about their boyfriends, but before the night I met Edward, they had never really mentioned him.

"I met Em at the gym, and he invited me to a Hoyas game with Jasper. I guess we all just clicked. How about you and the girls?"

"I went to high school with Rose and she brought Alice home from college a few times. I knew they lived here when I was considering places for my PhD, and I was sold on American when they told me they were looking for a third roommate." I smiled as I thought about how much I had changed in the time I'd known them.

He asked me about my family and I told him a little bit about them.

"There isn't much to tell about being the only child of divorced parents. I was pretty shuffled back and forth so I feel as though I hardly got to know either of them. I haven't seen them much since my undergrad."

We talked some more about our friends and family when my stomach started rumbling.

"What time is it?" I asked. I had barely taken in our surroundings and I noticed we were still in the same room with the Lichtensteins.

He pulled out his cell phone and looked down at it. "Late, we've missed lunch. Do you want to grab something at the cafe here or venture out?"

"Let's eat here, I saw a sign of a Nan Goldin exhibit they have right now. I've always been curious about her work."

He raised his eyebrow up slightly. "Sounds good." I was curious about his response, but didn't comment further.

"Lunch?" he asked in affirmation.

"Sure, let's go."

We walked through the hallway and I thought about how glad I was the tension from earlier was gone. I was also relieved to hear why he was drawn to Magritte initially. I was sad to hear about his mother, but it made him more… human to me.

He had shown such swift confidence that I couldn't help but feel insecure in comparison to that. I didn't relish seeing him in pain, but it made me like him even more to see his composure slip. He couldn't always be swooping in with all the right moves. I wasn't quite the Lois Lane, and he couldn't always be Superman.

I was more reluctant to admit to myself another reason for being allayed at his explanation for his choice of artist. Enjoyment of creepy artwork from a seemingly perfect guy seemed to spell out all kinds of warning signals for me. Even if he vehemently denied his mother as his reasoning for relating to the artwork, I still held it as true. _Or at least my truth_.

We reached the outdoor café and walked to the counter to get some sandwiches and drinks. After paying for our meals, we sat down at a nearby table.

"I'm sorry about earlier," I started, not sure if I was apologizing for my opinions or the reaction they garnered. He merely nodded. I took a bite of my sandwich mulling over what I could or should say for now.

"So what was with the eyebrow raising at the mention of Nan Goldin?"

He considered for a moment before answering, "Just seemed like an interesting choice, that's all. You said you were curious about her work, have you not seen it before?"

"I've seen a few images… drag queens and 'lovers embraced,' that sort of thing. Are you familiar with her?"

"Not really, but I can't say I liked the images I have seen… mostly portraying domestic abuse and strung-out heroin addicts. I find a lot of it to be exploitative."

I put my sandwich down. "Really?"

"Again, I'm not super familiar, but just from what I know there are a lot of images in this particular exhibit dealing with the idea of codependency and abuse. Most of them self-portraits depicting abuse she withstood."

"You find her _self_-portraits exploitative?" I asked incredulously.

"I don't know about that so much… how she wants to portray herself as a domestic abuse victim is her choice, but I wonder how much choice her 'friends' had in being depicted in their desperate situations."

"Maybe they were willing subjects," I countered.

"Maybe," he agreed, but his tone was doubtful.

We finished eating and walked up the stairs to the second floor where the exhibit was. There were two current photography exhibits on this floor and I looked at the sign for the second one. _Fetish:_ _Collaboration between Christian Louboutin and David Lynch_. I smiled at that.

"Hey, I know we've already seen a lot today" _and fought a lot_ "but Alice would kill me if I was this close to her mother ship and didn't check it out." I pointed to the exhibit sign.

"Christian Louboutin?" he asked, confused.

"Tsk, tsk!" I chided. "Haven't Rose and Alice waxed poetic about the fine art of his shoes? If Alice heard you asked who he was, she might call it sacrilege."

He raised his eyebrow up slightly. "I see. They beat the fashionista into you?"

I snorted and looked down at my clothes. "Hardly. It's difficult saying no to Alice. You haven't noticed?"

He let out a loud laugh in agreement and started to lead the way to where Nan Goldin's work was displayed. When we walked into the room, I was immediately immersed in the images. They were printed large format and used only available light.

I found the ambiance intriguing, but beyond that I didn't know what to think. They were very stark and in your face. Women and men so emaciated they made models look plump, men nearly on their deathbed wasting away from AIDS, and then images of the artist herself, black and blue yet with bright lipstick.

There was intimacy that only close friends could capture in such a picture, but it didn't overshadow the despair I saw looking at these people. They were surely victims, but I couldn't decide if she was merely telling their story and forcing viewers to look at the invisibility of those photographed that was normally ignored.

These images were just as violent as the exhibit we saw earlier, but didn't leave me with as much distaste in my mouth. My mind kept coming back to her self-portraits, though. I didn't know what she was saying by photographing herself after being abused, repeatedly.

I wasn't even sure that it made it okay to portray these images—not just as a woman, or abuse victim, but as an artist showing artwork. I seemed to keep coming up against this dilemma. I still had trouble deciding whether the demeaning, exploitative, violent nature should be dispelled just because it was being purported by a woman.

Was it really so different from porn? Both the artwork in question and pornography are meant to be viewed _and_ purchased, yet pornography had no message or pretension beyond catering to its audience. Who was Nan Goldin catering to?

I walked over to Edward, ready to leave the exhibit and tugged on his arm.

"Ready?" I nodded.

"What did you think?" he asked.

"I'm pretty sure I don't like the work, but I don't want to disregard it completely." I knew it was a confusing answer, but it was what I could verbalize coherently of my opinion at the moment.

"What don't you _think_ you liked about it?" he asked curiously.

"Well, I'm still undecided on whether or not I find her artwork a valid means of a message or done for shock value."

He accepted my answer and we walked into the _Fetish_ exhibit.

Women seemed to be a featured theme for us today, yet it was drastically different looking at these images of women versus everything else we looked at.

_Fetish_ didn't seem to begin to describe it. Shoes had never been something I had a particular interest in, but there was no denying the beauty of these. I couldn't imagine walking in any of the shoes pictured, but I imagined they weren't meant for walking. They looked like pointy shoes with a heel attached.

The women in the photographs were sexy, but they weren't the focal point. It was all focused on the shoes. I read a quote on the wall about the exhibit.

_I tried to keep an element of my drawings, to be faithful to the drawings, with no practicality, just pleasure, thinking of extreme fetish shoes. Usually when you go to the third dimension you lose something.  
-Christian Louboutin_

Everything about the exhibit was extreme, yet I found it arousing. None of the other images today had such a profound effect on me. Even the 'raw fucking' of some of Nan Goldin's work didn't strike me as erotic. These images screamed bedroom, a place I suddenly found myself wishing I was at.

Edward came up behind me and asked again, like with the other exhibits, about my opinion on the art.

My response came out breathier than I intended. "Pretty fucking hot."

He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on my cheek as he wrapped his arms around me. We stood like that for a minute before he released me and took my hand to lead me around the rest of the exhibit.

I was incredibly turned on looking at these images and got on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Let's go."

We walked back out to the hall and I had an idea when I saw the elevator.

"Can we take the elevator? My feet are screaming after all the walking we did today."

He gave me a wry smile in return and followed my lead. The elevator door dinged open shortly after pressing the button and we stepped in. The doors shut with only the two of us in it and I was ready to pounce when instead he spoke.

"Thanks for that little show this morning."

I looked at him in confusion. "At the Magritte exhibit?"

"At your apartment… in the bathroom." I smiled as I remembered what he was talking about—when I locked him out of the bathroom.

"It was pretty funny, wasn't it?" My laughter stopped when I looked at him and caught his expression. Instead of humor in his eyes, all I saw was lust.

In an instant he had me up against the wall of the elevator. I could feel his hardness pressing on my stomach, which made me want him even more. He was kissing me fervently and lowered his hand between our bodies to rub my clit.

I was so worked up I figured even with only three floors for the elevator to travel I would be able to get off. We passed the second floor, and just before it was about to go to the main floor, I grunted against his lips.

"Press… the… stop… button."

He kept kissing me but maneuvered our bodies so he was close enough to reach the stop button with his hand. Just as I thought he was about to press it, he instead moved his lips away from mine and kissed along the way to my ear, brushing my hair aside in the process.

His lips were warm and his breath hot as he whispered seductively, "You didn't think it would come back to bite you in the ass?"

He pulled away with a huge grin and the elevator dinged for the doors to open.

Twice I was cockblocked today, and all because I wanted to have a little fun with him this morning. Well, I definitely wasn't going to keep him out of the shower next time.

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**A/N: **So please **review** and lemme know what you think. I personally find the dismissive way Bella speaks of submission offensive, but she's got a ways to go. Actually they both have a ways to go _together_, but it's progress.

I know there was a lot of art talk this chapter even though I was going to confine it to last chapter, but I didn't feel their discussion or date at the museum was finished. (And when I go to a museum I like to see more than just one exhibit)

The "growing up Cullen" bit was a nod to the livejournal convos that are HILARIOUS. I linked one of the entries on my profile, so go check it out!

Links to artwork in profile. Ballet heels are too hardcore for me, but I am all ears if my dear husband suddenly develops a fetish for footwear. Dear hubby: Plz buy me shoes.

The Georgetown Hoyas I was referring to was their basketball team.

There are many classifications of felonies, and not all of them are violent crimes. PS I am reading a book recommended by **visionary gleam**, called The Other Side of Desire by Daniel Bergner and it's *really* interesting. It delves into the lives of four people involved in "different" kind of relationships. It's mostly from a psychological perspective (though the author is a journalist) but definitely worth checking out from the library! One of the people the author talks about in the book is a foot fetishist and it made me want to include the Loubou exhibit...(which I actually like)


	12. Chapter 12

Hey folks. This chapter took quite some time. Real life has kind of been INTENSE.

Thanks to my beta **EverIntruiged** for editing this and reminding me to show instead of tell. If there are any mistakes they are mine as I did not ask her to re-edit after changing things she suggested. Also thanks to **algonquinrt**, who has been an incredible wealth of knowledge about everything. Both are linked under favorite authors in my profile.

I want to say how much I appreciate everyone's incredibly thoughtful reviews. Y'alls are very opinionated! (It's a good thing, really.) Hope this chapter was worth the wait!

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"_When we talked, I talked about me, you talked about you, when we should have talked about each other."_

_Jean-Paul Belmondo, as Michel Poiccard in __Breathless_

**BPOV**

We didn't talk after leaving the museum about the state he had left me in. Was it teasing or punishment? Or was I being punished _for_ teasing? I couldn't decide. He walked me back to the Metro stop and we agreed to meet up this weekend. I was startled by the dependency I felt, and I really needed some time to myself and with friends.

I was anxious to talk to a friend about the conundrum I'd found myself in. I had always been considered to be so secure in my beliefs and ideals, but slowly, Edward was making me rethink everything. It made me feel a little insecure and unsure of myself. It was a foreign feeling, one that I hadn't experienced since high school, yet the insecurity was now peeking out left and right since meeting Edward.

If I was hoping that the Ecofeminism class I was teaching today would be a reprieve from my thoughts on Edward, I was sorely disappointed as the points kept being hammered into me. _Dominance. Subordination. Natural Selection._

A student spoke up and brought me out of my reverie.

"Ms. Swan, if in nature animals choose their mates based partly based on tools of survival, do you think it's the same in _human_ nature?"

It was a good question. One I wasn't sure I felt qualified to answer considering my current situation.

"I think the idea that we choose potential partners on instinctual characteristics… like whether or not they can provide or protect us has merit to it, yes, if that's what you're asking." I stumbled over my words because I wasn't sure how to describe my thoughts.

Edward wasn't a 'provider' in the traditional sense, yet he always made sure my _needs_ were met.

"Do you think we subconsciously seek others out like animals do?"

Did I seek Edward out? It was coincidence we met each other, but would I have been drawn to anyone else the same way I was drawn to him?

"Perhaps," I conceded.

Before class ended, I gave a brief reading assignment and walked to my advisor's office to see if she was available. I was hoping to ask her for suggestions of books on the subject of Dominance and submission, and tell her I wanted to touch upon that in my writing. There was no answer when I knocked, but another woman was walking by and casually called out to me.

"She's not in right now, but I think she will be back later this afternoon." She was petite with brown hair and a warm expression.

"Oh, thanks," I started lamely, "I can talk to her another day, it wasn't important." It wasn't important to my _research_, anyhow.

"I'm Angela Cheney," she said, offering a hand to me.

I gave her my hand in return, "Bella Swan. Professor Friedan is my thesis advisor."

Her eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh! I hope this doesn't make me sound completely creepy, but I overheard your advisor talking to another Professor about your research. It sounds really intriguing! I'd love to read the paper when you are done."

I smiled at her. "Thank you, I appreciate the compliment. It may be quite some time before you'll be able to read anything even remotely coherent, though."

"Either way, I still look forward to reading it."

I nodded and sighed, disappointed that I wouldn't be able to talk to the Professor about my 'research'. She noticed my expression.

"Is there anything_ I_ can help you with? I'm no scholar, but if you need a brain to pick, I'm your girl."

Her tone implied her sincerity in wanting to help me, but I wasn't sure how to broach the subject. _'Can you help me figure out if being tied up is going to make me lose my NOW membership?'_

"Just a tricky bit I've come up against in my research. It's just a small piece of information that I'm not as familiar with, and some of the things I've read don't really shed enough light on the situation."

She contemplated for a minute. "Have you talked to other people who've perhaps done research in the area you're having trouble with?"

"That's the problem--I wouldn't know where to start."

"Well, your research is porn, right?" I went along with the lie and nodded. "What about talking to someone in the sex industry, to gain the perspective that you can't get from books?"

It sounded like a really good idea, talking to someone who knew firsthand what I was going through. But who? A dominatrix? Would she even understand my struggle with the power exchange? How would I find someone else who was submissive like me? I wasn't quite ready to put myself out there to meet other people in my situation, if there were any.

"I'm not quite sure I would be able to find someone who met my… requirements."

"Maybe a chat room?" she offered. That seemed perfect. It would be anonymous enough that I could be frank and get the answers I needed. I could say everything I was feeling to someone I would never meet.

I gave her a bright smile. "I think that would be perfect, thanks!"

We talked for a few more minutes and exchanged information before I excused myself in the name of research.

When I got back to our apartment, I called out to see if anyone was home. I got no response, so I quickly went to my bedroom and booted up my laptop. I hadn't been in a chatroom since I was a teenager, but I opened mIRC and typed in #D/s. The chat window opened and I saw about five other people logged in the room chatting away.

_mozzabella has joined #D/s_

**HR:** my wife and I were planning on going to the conference in DC, too**  
draztic:** cool! I wish I could get the time off of work**  
miyu:** hi mozzabella!**  
HR:** like your work would really miss you!**  
mozzabella:** hi everyone! I hope you don't mind a newbie but I was hoping to talk to someone about D/s**  
finch:** you're not getting OPs**  
miyu:** *hits finch over the head* what did you need?

I tapped my fingers on the keyboard as I tried to think what to say. I didn't really have anything to lose since I'd probably never meet these people.

**mozzabella:** well, I'm not just new to this chat room, but new to the whole "scene"… I've recently become involved with a guy who told me he's into dominance and submission, and we've done some stuff, but I'm not really sure where that leaves us**  
finch:** it leaves you on your knees begging for more**  
miyu:** god, finch, give it a rest…mozzabella, we can talk in a private chat

I waited until a separate window opened and I saw miyu had initiated a chat.

**miyu:** sorry, sometimes she can be such a fuckwit**  
mozzabella:** *laughs* it's okay, it's to be expected for n00bs**  
miyu:** so did you like the things you and your partner had done?**  
mozzabella:** yes, but I'm pretty torn up about it. I guess this doesn't make sense to most people, but I really don't know if I feel comfortable giving him so much power in the relationship**  
miyu:** really? I've never looked at it that way. you're a submissive, right? I mean, yes, you are giving a part of yourself, but I would hope _both_ of you are. this should never be a one-sided affair.**  
mozzabella:** it isn't…I mean he's pretty great. and I don't even know if I'm submissive, that's part of the problem. if it's so much trouble for me to let go, will I ever be able to?**  
miyu:** why do you have to 'let go' of anything?**  
mozzabella:** I'm a feminist! I'm not the type of girl who does this**  
miyu:** you realize how you sound right? how completely condescending that is, not only to anyone who considers themselves submissive, but to yourself as well?

I looked at what she had said. Yes, maybe what I had said sounded a little high-handed, but how could I condescend myself?

**mozzabella:** I'm not sure what you mean. I mean, yes, I understand that maybe I sound jerky about submission in general. I know that, I'm trying to get beyond that. I have no problem with submission, but I'm beginning to think it's just not for me.**  
miyu:** 'not for you'? well isn't that nice.**  
mozzabella:** no, I mean—**  
miyu:** save it. I am proud to call myself a submissive. you need to check your close-mindedness at the door. I give myself to my partner. every single part, just as my partner does for me. we do this in love, in supplication, in _need_. it's totally fine to dabble, but don't disrespect the idea of this lifestyle for others, or trivialize it into something that's "okay for others, but not for me"_  
miyu has logged off_

I sat there and stared at the chat window. Me close-minded? I was one of the most liberal people I knew. I laughed in disbelief. I contemplated for a few more minutes until I heard sounds in the hallway. I closed the chat window and got up to peer outside my room.

"Hello?" I called out.

"Oh, hey Bella," Rose answered. She was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, so I assumed she had just come home from working out.

"Where's Alice today? I thought she didn't work."

"I think she said something about her and Jazz doing something together. She's probably over at his and Em's place. She probably would have told you this if you were _around_ to tell. What's up with you and _Eddie _lately?"

I smiled, briefly forgetting my annoyance with the chat room. "Things are good. I guess I have been pretty busy with him lately."

"_Getting_ busy," she laughed.

"Anyhow I have a lot going on this week, so we said we'd see each other on the weekend. What are you up to tonight?" I hinted.

"Hanging out with you?" she teased.

"I'd love that if you aren't busy. I could use some girl time."

"Sure, let me get a shower. I'm starving, so maybe you could order a pizza while I'm showering?"

I nodded as she made her way to the bathroom. I grabbed my cell and put in an order at our favorite local pizza place. I sat on the couch in the living room and turned on the TV while I waited for Rose to finish getting ready. The pizza delivery man buzzed our apartment and I met him outside the building to pay for the pizza.

I brought the pizza back to our apartment and set it down on the kitchen counter to grab some plates. I looked in the fridge and reached for a Coke, putting a slice of pizza on my plate. I sat on the couch again and started eating as I flipped through the channels.

Rose walked into the room in sweatpants, combing her wet hair with her fingers.

"Pizza's on the counter," I said between bites.

I flicked through the channels.

"Is anything even on now?"

"I tivo'd _Lost," _she responded.

Ugh, like I needed a show that answered questions _with _questions to further confuse me.

"I'll pass." I kept moving through the stations until I came to a marathon of _Project Runway_. I didn't know much about fashion, but I loved this show. It was one of my guilty pleasures.

"Bella, the fashionista?"

"Please, like you don't enjoy Austin and Jay action."

"I'm not in the mood for Angela's granny circles."

"Wrong season. Anyhow it's the episode where they design a postal uniform. We missed most of the episode, but the best part is on."

"Oh, didn't Austin do a cape for that?" she squealed.

"Shh, no one talks when Michael Kors is speaking."

"Uh, okay _Alice_."

We laughed together at his quips of being 'underwhelmed'. When the episode ended, we both had finished eating and set our plates on the coffee table.

"So what does our little Bella want some girl time to talk about," Rose said, cutting to the chase.

"I can't want to hang out without a motive?" I asked in mock hurt.

"Oh shut it. I just mean you look so lost in thought."

I hesitated for a moment, but I knew talking to Rose would be helpful. She may have been judgmental of _other_ people, but not those closest to her.

"Edward and I kind of got into a fight on our date. We are okay now, but it's left me questioning a lot of things, and especially about what I want out of this relationship."

She nodded for me to continue.

"It's just… different with him. He's different than anyone I've ever dated, and I'm a little out of my element."

"Good different or bad different?"

I flushed as I thought of our encounters.

"Good different," she commented, with a teasing smile.

"Yeah, but what if it's so different that I can't adapt fast enough?"

"What about what your man Tim Gunn says, 'make it work?' Maybe you need to not think things through so much and just let them happen. Forget about what you know, or what you've done before, and enjoy what you're doing _now_."

"Maybe you're right," I conceded. "Hey, I just remembered something I need to do. Do you mind if I call it a night?"

She leaned over and gave me a hug. "Sure, it's fine. Just remember I'm here rain or shine."

I hugged her tightly to me and smiled at her kind words.

"You're the best Rose," I beamed.

"That's what Em tells me!" We both laughed at that as I walked back to my room.

I signed back into the chat room, hoping to see if miyu was logged on again. She was. I initiated a private chat.

**mozzabella:** I just wanted to say you're right, and I'm sorry for how I came across earlier. I must have forgotten to take my smart pills. *wink***  
miyu: **I'm glad you were able to think about things. I hope you and your partner are able to find common ground.**  
mozzabella:** well, I think we still need to work through some _kinks_ *snickers* but I am going to try to 'check yo self before you wreck yo self'**  
miyu:** good call! I wish you and your partner well**  
mozzabella:** thanks! have a good night!

I logged off the chat and smiled to myself. It was maybe a bit silly of me to be bothered that I had possibly upset this person I didn't even know, but I felt better after apologizing. Part of me even reasoned that maybe I was partly apologizing to Edward for my flippant attitude about our relationship.

Before going to bed I sent him a quick text.

_Thinking of you. Call me tomorrow?_

His response was immediate:

_What about tonight?_

My phone rang just seconds after I finished reading the text.

"Grand Central Station," I answered with a cheery voice.

"Bella, we live in D.C."

"Metro Center," I amended. I wanted to keep things light. When we were at my apartment before going to the museum the tone was so different. I wanted that back.

"Better. How are you? It feels like it's been ages, not hours."

I smiled. _He missed me_.

"I know, I miss you too."

"What makes you think I miss you? I just was commenting it felt like I hadn't seen you in awhile." His tone was playful. At least I_ hoped_ he was playing. I didn't respond.

"Relax, I'm teasing. How was the rest of your day?"

"Good, I chilled with Rose and we watched PR."

"Hmm?"

"Well, to those in the _know_, that's _Project Runway_."

"Excuse me for not channeling my inner metrosexual. What was Heidi wearing this episode?"

I laughed. "Of course you would ask about the swim suit model."

"And Victoria's Secret, don't forget that. That catalog has helped me through many a dry spell." I heard his soft chuckle on the line.

"I can't imagine _you_ having a dry spell."

"I don't have casual encounters," he said, his tone serious. Just like that we had shifted again, back to the unknown, 'where do we stand' territory.

"And me?" I asked cautiously.

"You're different, and this isn't casual. Not to me at least."

"Me either," I said softly. "I want to talk about it—the elephant in the room. The 'what is this to you' that we are both asking each other in circles. I'm tired of trying to limit myself, of denying my pleasure. In my research, it's all about exploitation and disregards the notion that not everything is exploitative.

"I'm not going to keep you at arms length, or deny my wants," I thought about what the person in the chat room said, "my _needs_. I need what only you can give me."

I heard him breathing on the phone, and for the first time in our relationship, I was nervous. Was he going to take what I had offered him?

"As only you have what _I_ need," he said in a confident tone. I sighed contentedly at his admission.

"So what are we doing this weekend?" I asked in a non-subtle way of changing the subject.

He chuckled lightly. "I thought you could come over and we could watch a movie."

"Will we actually be watching it?" I teased.

"You make me sound like a horny teenager."

"Aren't you? Horny, I mean."

"Yes," he paused, "what are you wearing, baby?"

I laughed because I could tell from his tone that he meant it in a joking manner. I almost wished he _wasn't_ joking.

"Can we be all 'married couple', and I'll say 'not tonight, dear?'"

"Yes, but there'll be no more teasing this weekend."

"Or cock-blocking."

"You started it."

"But you returned the favor twice. Truce?"

"Truce. This weekend will only consist of me fucking your brains out." His voice turned husky on the last part.

"Okay," I breathed. I looked over at the clock and saw it was late. "I should really get to bed."

"Because I want phone sex?"

"No, because I want it too, and I really need sleep instead. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay," he said in a disappointed tone.

"Oh please, you know this weekend will be promising."

He groaned. "Thanks for that, now I'm going to bed with a hard-on thinking of all the things I'll do to you this weekend."

I laughed wickedly. "Good night, dear!" I ended the call quickly before he had the chance to change my mind.

***

The rest of the week passed by in a flash. Edward and I talked on the phone each night and I could feel my affection growing for him. It wasn't love, it was too soon for that, but I liked him more than I'd ever liked anyone before.

We talked about all the things I already knew about it, and I learned things I would have never guessed. I was looking forward to spending time with him on the weekend.

When Saturday finally came, I chose my outfit based on what would be the easiest to get out of, a simple t-shirt dress and ballet flats. Anxious was putting it mildly.

I decided to take the bus so I could stop at my favorite bakery in Georgetown along the way. I got off the bus at the stop and got some macaroons for us. His place wasn't far and the weather was nice, so I walked the rest of the way.

I sighed as I walked inside the lobby of his building, taking in the beautiful surroundings.

_Not in Kansas anymore, Bella._

I texted him to meet me in the lobby, since I didn't have a key for the elevator to get into his apartment. I sat on one of the plush couches and waited patiently for him to meet me here. After a few minutes, I heard the elevator ding and I knew it had to be him. I wasn't disappointed when I turned around to look.

He looked gorgeous, as usual, but not seeing him for a few days seemed to amplify my lust. He gave me a crooked smile as he walked over to where I was sitting. I stood up and leaned in to give him a hug.

"Hey," I said as we broke apart.

He just continued to smile at me and took my hand to lead me to the elevator.

"So what are we watching?" I asked as the elevator doors closed. He put his key into the hole and the elevator started towards our destination.

"_Breathless?" _

"Sounds great, I haven't seen that in a long time."

"Good to know you've seen it before, in case we get distracted," he added, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. He pressed me against the wall gently with his body and closed his lips on mine.

His mouth was gentle at first, and then I felt him push further into me as his tongue glided into my mouth. I moaned into his mouth at the feeling. If I was a guy, I would have been harder than hell. _He_ was. Everything in my body was on fire feeling him, tasting him.

"No teasing," I murmured against his lips.

I could feel his lips trying to curl into a smile as he continued to kiss me. The elevator doors opened at his floor and we broke away from each other momentarily.

"C'mon, I've got something for you."

"You really have to stop buying me things," I said with an exaggerated sigh.

"You seemed to quite enjoy the last gift I bought you," he said with a smirk.

"If I recall, we _both_ enjoyed it."

"Well, maybe that will still hold true for this."

We walked to his bedroom and he motioned for me to sit on the bed.

"Do you want me to close my eyes?" I asked coyly.

"No need," he called out as he rummaged in his closet in search of my gift. He walked back towards me with a discreet bag with white tissue paper.

I removed the tissue from the bag and saw a brown shoebox that resembled a cardboard pattern. I gasped when I saw the name printed on the top.

"Edward, you shouldn't have spent this much on me!"

"Shhh, I didn't. Technically I spent my grandfather's money. What good is being a trustafarian if I can't take advantage of it?"

I opened the box carefully and moved the tissue aside to reveal the highest shoes I'd ever come across in person. They were stunning black patent leather. The heel had to be at least five inches tall. I wasn't sure I could stand in them, let alone walk. I looked at the bottom. How odd that he knew my size.

"You know I can't wear these! I doubt I could move three feet without falling on my ass."

He sat down on the bed next to me and brushed his lips against my ear. "You're not going to _walk;_ you're going to fucking _crawl_."

I shivered at his words and immediately a vision came to my eyes. Me, on all fours crawling across the bedroom to him, then it flashed and became me crawling on the floor with him hot on my heels lightly flicking my ass with a crop to encourage me to move faster.

_Fuck. _I felt myself growing hot at the thoughts and images paired with his words.

"Would you like me to try them on?" I asked in an innocent voice.

His eyes darkened and he nodded. I kicked my flats to the ground and slipped my feet into the shoes, one at a time. It was a snug fit, but they seemed oddly comfortable for the height. I tried to stand up and wobbled a bit. His arms wrapped around my body to steady me.

I laughed at how unbalanced I was in the heels. "I think these could be used as weapons." I moved my hand down to his erection. "In more ways than one," I added with a sly smile.

He sat on the bed, leaving me still standing still in the shoes.

"Can you try to walk in them?"

I looked down at my feet, and inevitably at the ground where I'd likely be in a minute.

"I can try," I offered. I moved each foot gingerly trying to adapt my posture to the way the shoes positioned my body. I could feel each muscle in my body working to adjust to the foreignness of being so tall. Each inch I walked in tight steps made me feel more powerful. I could feel the height reverberate through my body.

I walked a few more steps and became more confident in my movements. I swiveled around and asked him a question I already knew the answer to.

"So what do you think? Do you like them? I mean you should, since you picked them out…"

"Yes, I like it. You have _no_ idea."

I started to walk back towards him and stumbled to the ground. He was about to help me up when I shook my head. I thought of my image from earlier. I positioned myself on all fours and crawled in slow, catlike motions in his direction. His eyes were on my every move.

I crawled until I reached his feet at the edge of the bed and climbed on top of him.

His lips were on mine again kissing me with a frenzy I'd never experienced before. Not just lust and desire – _need_. For each other. Each movement of my lips against his was my way of saying, 'I can give you this.'

In a movement so quick I barely had time to register it, his hands were at the hem of my dress and he moved his lips away from mine to free my body from the dress. I felt the breeze hit me as I was straddled on his lap with nothing on but the heels.

He flipped us over so I was on my back. I moved my ankles to wrap around his waist as he ground against me, still clothed.

I ran my hands to the bottom of his shirt to lift it off of him and he stilled my hands.

"God, Edward, if you don't fuck me right now I am going to take you out with these heels and get myself off."

He growled. "Let. Me. Lead."

I gasped when I saw the look on his face. He looked… dangerous, like I was his prey. I nodded meekly and he removed his shirt. He took a condom out of his pocket before discarding those with his boxers. He wasn't wearing any socks.

He rolled the condom down his length and lifted underneath my knees to place them on his shoulders. My heel-shod feet were cradled up against his neck. He placed himself at my entrance and looked to me for permission. I nodded and felt him push in.

We both moaned at how good it felt to have him sheathed inside me again. I rocked my hips against him. He thrust harder, as deep as it was possible for him to go. His eyes locked with mine. He was watching me and my reactions to him being inside me. Watching his eyes, I caught a glint of… possession?

He gripped my hips tighter and moved me faster with him. I lost whatever trance I was in the moment I felt his movements quicken. My ankles held on even tighter to him as I could feel my orgasm building with each thrust.

His eyes were wild as he continued to consume me. He bent his head down and breathed into my neck.

"Cum, Bella. Fucking cum for me," he ground out.

His words pushed me over the edge and my orgasm shot through every part of my body. It was so intense and I was screaming out his name as I came. My orgasm was the catalyst for his to follow and I heard him grunt as he continued to pump into me.

And then it happened.

"Mine."

* * *

**A/N: oh no he din't!** Review and let me know your thoughts! The "yes i like it..." part is from Eclipse.

If we're picking Godard films, I prefer Band of Outsiders, but I'll take Breathless too.

I know absolutely nothing about Ecofeminism beyond the few pages I googled to make it relevant for Bella, if what I spoke about was inaccurate, please let me know. I tried to research the subject but again it is not something I am well-versed in. If you're annoyed I compared humans to animals...well, I don't believe in creationism, so we'll leave it there.

mIRC = internet relay chat. And I really haven't been on mIRC in at least 10 years. I was almost tempted to go even geekier and have her post on a list-serv, but technology has come around. The screen names used are an inside joke of my old IRC days. (miyu was my nic) HR = bad brains.

The shoes Edward got Bella are my current lustings (but not havings at their "sale" price of $500), Black Patent Alti 160s from Christian Louboutin. Every girl needs a pair of six inch "I can't fucking walk" shoes in their life.

I went to see "Spring Awakening" recently, and it was awesome (and was my music for this chapter). If it's playing near you, definitely check it out. As an aside, if you've read the original play by Wedekind _and_ saw the musical version, I'd be curious to discuss it as they changed something I consider a major plot point. To be fair: I haven't read the musical's screenplay, and as I am partly deaf, I couldn't catch everything—but it was a visible plot point.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Hello, Friendo.

I know, two weeks. Believe me, I know! I haven't been in the right place to write this chapter, but was finally able to sit down and write it.

Song for this chapter is Orchid's "Epilogue of a Car Crash." Link on profile, with a warning that it is very loud and chaotic, despite the mild beginning to the song.

Coolness: I am participating in a series being written on BDSM at **The Lazy, Yet Discerning Ficster**. First part is up, link on my profile.

Thanks to my beta EverIntruiged for editing and polishing up the writing in this chap.

* * *

"_Indignation is a submission of our thoughts, but not of our desires."  
-Bertrand Russell_

**BPOV**

'_Mine?' _

My whole body stiffened at the declaration. He collapsed on top of me, and I gave him a gentle nudge to remind him that not only was it uncomfortable with the weight of his body, but my legs felt like Jell-O in their current position.

"Sorry," he rasped as he adjusted my legs and rolled over beside me.

"Bella? Your body tensed up. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No, you didn't hurt me."

"But something's wrong." It was a statement, not a question.

"I just don't believe in people having ownership over each other." He gave me a confused look so I clarified, "You said 'mine'. But I'm not yours, just like I'm not my parents', or anybody else's. I don't belong to or answer to anyone but myself."

His neutral expression didn't tell me anything. I waited for a response and when none came, I continued.

"I'm not your toy, Edward."

"I never suggested that you were."

"Then why did you say it?"

"Because I thought you wanted this, to let go and give yourself _completely_. Not just your body, but your mind and soul."

"I did… I _do_ want this. I just can't help feeling like I shouldn't."

"Why? You don't have to subscribe to every belief of something… isn't feminism about choice?"

"I don't want my beliefs to be cafeteria style… where I pick and choose as I fancy, regardless of the contradiction."

"But it's exactly what you _are_ doing! Not with feminism, but with _me_. Picking and choosing when you allow to let your guard down, deciding in fleeting moments when it's okay for me to be in charge, what you will and won't allow. Shouldn't what you _want _matter more than what you _think_ you should or shouldn't do?"

"And you're mine? Just as you think I am yours?" I expected his anger, and possibly even deserved it, but I didn't anticipate his next response.

"There is no question that I belong to you. Every single part of me that you are willing to accept is yours."

His gaze was penetrating and made it hard for me to think about the weight of what he was saying. Well, maybe more of what he _wasn't_ saying. That he wanted desperately for me to claim him as mine, to take every part of him without question or doubt.

He was… wanted to be…

_Mine._

That he asked me to have him as my own wasn't the problem—it was that I wanted it, wanted him. As… _mine?_

Had I boxed myself so far into my identity that I couldn't claw my way out? Was it really a matter of trust or principle? Shame?

I didn't want to be defined by my sexual practices, but lately it seemed to be all I was: the sexual politics of Bella. He was right—I wasn't sure it was even about me being a feminist anymore. My arguing points no longer made sense and it was getting harder to counter his.

I still hadn't answered him and I could feel the tension in the air. He got up from the bed and started to walk away.

"So this is it, you're leaving?" I asked.

"No, I'm getting dressed. This isn't something that's going to be solved in a day. I don't think you even have an answer for me that you would want to _try_." His tone wasn't unkind, just exasperated. And honest.

I watched as he started to dress and reached for my own clothes.

"It's still pretty early. Do you want to go out tonight?" he asked. Getting out of the apartment sounded like a good way to remove the dark cloud that hung over us.

"I could use a snack. Maybe XandO?" He nodded in agreement and continued in silence.

After we finished getting dressed and I followed him out of his apartment. We stepped into the elevator.

"Let's take my car."

"Okay," I agreed in a quiet voice.

The elevator ride was tense and silent. We got to his car and he unlocked the doors and let me in first. I sat down and he got in on the driver's side. After we both had our seatbelts on, he quietly started the car and drove out of the garage.

"We should talk about this," I said finally.

He looked at me carefully, as though he was contemplating how to phrase his next words.

"I thought I expressed my thoughts pretty well," he sighed. "Maybe I was premature in laying claim to someone I obviously _don't_ have."

"I like you, I do. You know that right?" I gave him a look, hoping he understood _how much_ I liked him. "But even if I didn't have my beliefs holding me back, it feels too soon for any kind of declaration."

"Maybe not now, but can you ever say ever?"

"Huh?" I asked, confused at his question.

"Will you ever change your views or allow such 'declarations'?"

I didn't know how I could even begin to answer that question. I thought I knew my own mind, but I was quickly learning that I didn't know _anything_.

"Change my views? I don't know. Adapt them… well, if I could adapt them for anyone, it would be you. Does that answer your question?"

He looked mollified by my response, and I was pleased we were able to get past this.

"Not completely, but it helps. Thank you, Bella. I do know this is hard for you. I'm just not sure you remember that it is for me as well."

My brow furrowed as he said this. I could understand him having trouble with my indecision, but what else could be bothering him? He always seemed so confident and sure of all his opinions, it was unnerving to even consider that he had to work just as much as I did to make this work.

I looked around and noticed we had pulled up in front of the shop. He put the car in park and turned it off. We both got out and walked inside.

"I'm not sure I get what you said in the car, about this being hard for you too?" I phrased it as a question.

"I'm not used to holding back this much. Maybe you view my tendencies as possessive—and I guess they can be, but I hoped you would want that… from what you've said anyhow… it just seemed natural, following everything else we've done together."

The way he said it made me think it wasn't just about him 'possessing' me. What I had thought of as sex, he obviously saw as so much more. Was it more? I knew my feelings were growing deeper for him… but right now, to me, it still felt purely sexual.

We were polar opposites in relationships. He said he didn't do casual, but it was all I did. And now? Well…

We had walked up to the counter and ordered some coffee and bagels. We sat down at a table after getting our orders and began to eat our food. I took a sip of my coffee and mulled over what he had said.

"I don't want you to feel as though you have to hold anything back," I offered tentatively.

He gave me a pointed look and I laughed. I was laughing so hard that he joined me. Just like that, the tension seemed to melt away.

"Okay, you're right. You probably _will_ have to hold things back for awhile. But isn't a little restraint sexy? I mean, I certainly like being restrained."

"Bella."

"Alright, alright. Did I answer your question better, though? Is it enough for you?"

"It's enough for now."

I nodded. Compromise. It's all I hear about when I read articles or see 'relationship gurus' talk on TV, and I never knew how relevant it really was. We still had a lot to learn about each other—with each other—but I felt really positive about being able to work through our quirks.

Eager to keep the mood light, I abruptly changed the subject.

"Let's do something fun. Something that requires no thought process whatsoever."

"We could check the CityPaper?"

"No, they cleverly disguise activities so they sound like even cavemen would be interested, but then even music makes me think." And I definitely didn't want to think right now. Thinking, or maybe more accurately _over_ thinking, confused the hell out of me.

"What about screamo? If you can't hear what they're saying, would that be okay?"

I laughed at him. Of course he would come up with something that was ridiculous yet made complete sense.

"Screamo's okay, but I really better not be able to identify one iota of semblance to words."

He stood up and walked over to a rack that had a stack of CityPapers. He walked back to our booth and began leafing through the pages. He was muttering to himself as he read.

"Care to share?" I asked, amused.

"Orchid is playing at the Black Cat, but I think it might be for a bit of a younger audience."

"Are you saying I'm aged?" I pronounced 'aged' the old-fashioned way to sound even stuffier.

"The nineteen year-olds might be into the hot cougar action…" he trailed off, as I swatted him playfully.

"Like they could handle The Swan," I teased, which caused us both to laugh.

He looked at his watch. "We still have a half hour before the show starts. How about we finish up here and then head on over."

"Sounds good."

The silence that surrounded us now was so different than before. I didn't feel the black cloud of despair like I did earlier. I felt as though we'd never be able to find common ground or be able to reconcile our differences. It almost seemed silly – we were able to have rational, intelligent, and _calm_ discussions about everything else under the sun – yet somehow one word set everything apart.

We finished and he grabbed our trays to throw everything away. I followed him to the door and he took my hand in his. I couldn't hide the surprise I felt from my face.

"If we're going to be around teenagers, is it so wrong to act like them?" he asked with a wry smile.

I laughed lightly and swung our hands back and forth. "No, I guess not. Does this mean we're going to park in the Kiss N' Ride after the show and make out before curfew?"

"Only if your dad isn't waiting inside, shining his gun." I smirked at how right the description of my father was, despite how little I had told him about Charlie.

We got into the car and he drove over to 14th Street. He parked a few blocks from the show space and locked the car after we got out. We walked to the door and I didn't say anything as he paid our admission. We got stamped so we could drink and walked over to the bar.

"My treat," I said as I asked the bartender for two drinks.

We stayed towards the back of the room where there was seating. I knew it made us stand out even more as "aging punks" in the crowd, but I had already had my fill of the mosh pit the first time around.

The opening band finished their set and I was pleasantly surprised when the main act started to play. The music was loud, and discordant, but still had a flow that I could relate to. True to his word, I couldn't understand anything said in the screams, and for that I was happy. It was nice to just listen to music without trying to find a meaning or agenda in it.

I leaned up on my tiptoes and whispered, "I need to pee, be right back."

He nodded and I trudged my way through the crowd to get to the ladies' room. There was a cloud of smoke in the bathroom and I coughed as I waited in line. The girls in front of me did seem quite a bit younger than me, but it didn't phase me. I stepped a little closer to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"…did you see those new pictures? The kissing scene looks so hot!"

"I KNOW! K-stew is so lucky to get to kiss him."

"Do you think she's really dating him?"

"I couldn't care less who's dating him unless it's me!"

I smiled to myself and tuned out the rest of the conversation. I found the actor they were referring to very attractive and I couldn't help but think Edward looked a lot like him. To be honest, though, he had _nothing_ on Edward.

The line moved at a snail's pace, so I tried to move as quickly as possible when it was finally my turn. I washed my hands and straightened my hair up before heading back out in the crowd.

I scanned the room to see where he was and zeroed in on him deep in conversation with a tall blond. I saw red. I stalked over to where he was and nestled up to his side.

"Sorry that took so long, there was a long line for the bathroom," I said in a breathy voice. I leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. If he was surprised, he didn't show it.

"Bella, this is Tanya a colleague of mine at the Clinic."

I tried to decode whether or not her smile was fake. It seemed genuine enough, so I offered my hand to her in greeting.

"Hi Tanya, it's nice to meet you. You're studying to become a Psychologist as well?"

Her smile widened. "Yes, I'm studying Cognitive Therapy. It's so nice to meet you, Bella! I've heard so much about you!" _Really? Because I haven't heard a _thing_ about him having a drop-dead gorgeous 'colleague'._

"Good things, right?"

"Of course." Her smile stayed plastered on her face.

I turned to Edward, "Do you want to get going? I was hoping we could head back to your place." I punctuated my words with a soft kiss on his lips.

Tanya took this moment to excuse herself from what was probably an increasingly uncomfortable situation. I didn't blame her. I knew what I was doing was wrong. Jealousy didn't become anyone, least of all me. What did I have to be jealous of? He's the one that was adamant about wanting me. _Only_ me. _His._

"Did you just mark your territory?" he asked me incredulously.

I turned to him with a smirk, the irony not lost on me, "I guess I did."

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**A/N: **Wellll what's going on there, Bella? I think she handled the mine pretty good, actually. Better than maybe she would have with someone else. I found the beginning quote (by philosopher Bertrand Russell) very fitting for her because she is submitting to her thoughts vs. her feelings and desires. I think what she did thar at the end is a huge turning point in her brain acknowledging things for what they are.

Btw, Orchid is defunct as a band (and have been for awhile), I just really like them in the screamo genre, so I included them. I was joking with the mosh pit, this crowd is way too hipster for that.

Kiss N' Ride is a real thing in DC (and I think perhaps other cities). There's one at the Tenleytown Metro where Bella lives. (Bratmobile also have a song by the same name)

If you don't read the thread on Twilighted, I mentioned I will be doing an outtake for the **Friday Free for All**. It's not 'til late July, but I've already started it. It's really fun so far, and no dramz.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** She's alive! She's alive!

So couple things!

1. The ladies at the **Perv Pack** reviewed this story! They are awesome. Their blog is awesome. Go check it out! Link in profile. (ps hello to all the new folks who moseyed over from there!)

2. I am this week's guest author for the **Friday Free for All** on **Twilighted**! So go check it out when the lovely **Ninapolitan** puts it up Friday! It's fun, it's lemony and gosh I really shouldn't gush about my own outtake…but I love it.

3. Mucho hugs and continued love to my awesome beta **EverIntruiged**, who continues not to bat an eye at my depravity.

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Last chapter on As the Twilight Turns…

Ho-shit, Bella just went all cavewoman on Edward!

**BPOV**

I wasn't sure that there was anything less obvious than how I had just acted, but I guess that was the point I wanted to get across. I might've just as well peed on his leg.

_Hmm, I hope he's not into that._

Edward grabbed my hand and was leading me out of the club. The main act was still playing, but our tenure here was pretty much over.

"That was interesting," he commented, once we were outside the club and were able to hear each other talk.

"I guess you are going to make a deal out of it?" I shrugged, trying to play it off.

He halted his steps, causing me to stumble into him with our hands still attached. He let go of my hand and braced me so I didn't fall. Even after I had steadied myself, he didn't let go.

"Yeah, I am. You were telling me how people don't belong to each other and then _that?_ What am I supposed to think when your actions contradict completely from your words?"

"I don't know what came over me…" I started, trying to think of how to explain it.

"Jealousy?" he quirked.

_Like I needed him to point out the hypocrisy. _

"Maybe," I offered lightly, not willing to give him any more incentive to continue this conversation track.

"You don't have to worry, you know. I told you already -- I'm every bit yours just as you are mine." He punctuated his words by pulling me tightly against his body.

"I'm not yours," I said with as much conviction as I could muster, which, at the moment, sounded pitiful even to my ears.

He pulled away from me slightly to look at me in the eyes with a firm gaze. "No? So if we aren't each other's, I can go back in there and fuck Tanya?" Years of training to be a psychologist was probably what kept his voice calm and steady, but I could still hear the angry undertones.

"If that's what you want," I tried to keep the same even tone to my voice, but was unsuccessful.

"And _you,_ it's what you want, too?"

"I'm not sure what I want."

I didn't expect his reaction at all. _He laughed._

"God, I don't think I've ever heard a truer statement out of your mouth." I scowled at him.

"Seriously Bella, you've got me in a situation where I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. You don't know what you want and I don't know what the fuck to do anymore."

"You could be patient with me… accept these things take time."

"You don't think I've been patient?"

I cringed internally. He had been more patient than I had right to ask for.

"You have," I conceded.

"What do you want from me?"

I didn't even know what I was asking of him.

"I wasn't asking for anything." _Just you._ "Look, can we have this conversation somewhere not so public?"

He nodded and ushered me to his car. Once we were both safely ensconced inside, he pressed the auto-lock button and the sound of the doors locking reverberated through the car. There was no getting out of here or this conversation.

I let him break the silence. "Are you going to tell me what that was about?"

"Are you going to fault me for being jealous of you talking to a beautiful woman?" I countered.

"I wouldn't fault anyone for jealousy. I'm only asking where it came from since you obviously don't feel _that way_ about me."

So this was it – 'the talk'. When I went home with him that first night, I definitely never pictured myself having this discussion.

"Edward, you know you don't have to question the fact that I like you."

"Do I?" he quirked. "Other than sexually speaking, you have been giving me nothing but mixed signals."

"Calling me your girlfriend isn't enough?" I tested it out in my head. _Girlfriend._ Isn't that what we'd said? Only I couldn't remember if we actually said those words out loud.

"_My_ girlfriend? Doesn't that imply I have some claim on you?"

_Just say it, damn it! Say yes!_

I didn't know why I still couldn't bring myself to say anything. In the short time I'd known him; he brought out so many feelings in me I wasn't used to. I no longer wanted to go by what my brain was telling me. Everything about him made me want to trust my instincts… and my instincts were telling me this felt good, this felt right. We did feel like we belonged to each other, it was because we did.

"Bella?" he asked softly, bringing me out of my reverie. "We're here."

"Oh," I said lamely, looking around and seeing the Wisconsin Avenue street sign. He pulled over to a questionable parking spot – it was late enough that it didn't matter.

"Are you going to answer my question?" he asked again, his tone slightly impatient.

"Yes."

"Yes, you're going to answer or…?"

I sighed. "I'm tired of fighting this, of trying to keep you at arm's length. I can't promise to tell you what you want to hear, or that I'll never be reactionary, but I'll try. So yes. You can call me your girlfriend. You can call me _yours_."

He smiled widely and reached over the console to give me a kiss so deep and sensual that I regretted not asking him to stay the night. This kiss claimed me more than any words we uttered, more than him calling me 'his'. It didn't mark me literally, but I felt the possession in my bones. My breathing was ragged as I pulled away.

"Call me tomorrow?" I asked sheepishly. I reached behind me in the back seat and grabbed the bag of shoes he had given me.

His face seemed fixed in a goofy grin. He looked smug and victorious, but I would let him have that tonight. He _had_ won me over.

"Tomorrow," he agreed.

***

I unlocked the door and walking into the apartment. I took my shoes off and placed the bag with the shoes Edward had gotten me next to the door.

I saw Alice on the floor next to the couch meticulously arranging what looked like a pair of very used shoes.

"Alice what are you doing?" I asked curiously. I'd never seen her take so much care on a pair of shoes that looked, by her standards, ready to be thrown away.

"Taking pictures for eBay! Actually, it's great you're back… you can help!"

"Those shoes are really trashed, Alice, I don't think anyone is going to buy them," I said doubtfully.

"That's the point, dummy! These are a total goldmine. A girl at work told me about selling her old shoes. I have a new pair I already have my eyes on."

"And pray tell who is buying your gross shoes?"

"Fetishists? Cobblers? Collectors? Who cares! All I know is there is someone out there who wants my old shoes and is willing to pay top dollar for them."

"Just don't lament to me when the creepy questions start rolling in!"

She shot me a glare. "Just let me put the shoes on so you can take some pictures. Try to focus closely on my feet."

I did as she asked and took several pictures of the shoes on her feet. Afterwards she took pictures of the shoes by themselves.

"This has to be the sleaziest thing you've ever done."

She shrugged. "I don't really see the harm in it. I want new shoes, they want old shoes. It's a good fit."

"Whatever you say, Alice."

"Uh huh. How's Edwaaard?"

"He's fine. We had a very nice date." Or at least we did before and after the fight.

"I just bet you did. What's in the bag?" she quirked her brow towards the door.

"A gift."

"Yes…?"

"A pair of shoes."

She squealed and rubbed her hands together. "Lemme see!"

I sighed and reluctantly grabbed the bag. I pulled out the box and heard her gasp. I ignored it and continued with the shoe unveiling.

"Bella, those are… without words! You know those must have cost a fortune!"

"I know. I feel bad he spent this much, but I've already worn them and it's not like I can return them."

She turned the shoes over and looked at the soles. "They don't look worn."

"They are, trust me."

"Look at _you_ calling _me_ sleazy!"

"Pot-kettle-black, I know. The shoes aren't sleazy, though," I defended.

She looked at me skeptically. "Can you even walk in them?"

"Kind of."

"Huh. I guess they're not really meant for _walking_."

"Alright, I get it. We can laugh at kinky Bella tomorrow. I need to get some sleep."

"We're definitely going to talk tomorrow. I think there's more than the _shoes _that we need to talk about."

"Goodnight, Alice," I said in a tone that told her I was done for the night.

"Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite… unless you're into biting." I rolled my eyes at her wink and headed to bed.

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**A/N:** Plz review! You guys are really awesome at it and I'm super humbled because my reviews are always super inarticulate.

Don't forget to check out the **FFFA** this Friday for the "Castration Frustration" outtake of this story!

PS: It's true! Selling old shoes on eBay is a f'real goldmine. $50 for shoes I was going to throw out? I can deal with a few "tell me what you were doing while you wore these shoes" mixed in with "what is the world coming to? I will paypal you money to throw these shoes out! You are disgusting!" emails (via "ask seller a question") for $$$ to spend for shoes that aren't destroyed.

So while you are shaking your head at how little (to no) shame I actually have, and wondering how deep my love for shoes goes, I promise I only put that part in their for fun (I thought it was funny? Maybe my sense of humor is skewed?). I could see Alice going to new depths for new shoes just as much as I do. PS since someone asked, I don't have a sock fetish! I guess I only mention them taking off their socks because the idea of sex with socks on weirds me out. (not to be confused with "Socks for Sex", a fun and awesome story by Nostalgicmiss and goldentemptress)


	15. Chapter 15

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**A/N:**

i know, i know... everyone hates author's notes, but....

i'm not dead, i promise! i am working on the next chapter and hope to finish it over the weekend!

the summer has made updating tricky with RL drama, and no preschool, but starting september things get back to normal!

i will replace this A/N with the chapter when i am done!

-erin!

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